Call me Benjamin

Call me Benjamin

So that I may be the Son of the Right Hand

and assume my place in His Kingdom;

due East of that eternal throne.

Call be Benjamin

So I may bask in its derivative,

and hold vague promises to its legacy.

Let this name take flight.

Let it nest on the mountains of

Franklin and Pierce

So that when I gaze into the nothingness in between the cosmos

I do not hear the crickets chirping at Their feet.

I do not hear their song of the nothingness

that echoes inside of me.

Call me Benjamin

So I may be excused from explanation;

this façade of youth.

Benjamin the button-lipped.

The Keeper of the Lost Sands!

Pray, do not unbutton me!

For the sand is buried there!

Its granules chisel my teeth

and leave ulcers on my tongue.

I am too afraid to speak.

So call me Benjamin

Call me Benjamin

So I may sit on the mountains of men

due east of His eternal throne,

Gaze into the nothingness,

under my façade of youth

and pray

with enough time the sand will turn into

pearls.

That they will fall from

my lips and grace the Earth

when I am finally brave enough to speak

and, you won’t have to call me Benjamin

anymore.