My name is John Bastard 
I am a head on a stick 
I am a picture of rats crawling over it
the maimed meme of patchwork, cult heroes 
of pop culture 

You can call me by my name but it changes 
You can call me by my name but it changes 

fells falling, Fargo and Wells wallin
tarped Egypt as a riddled Sphinx
build of stones and styx: Hell's calling

Faceless Stanley, bagged and tagged 
vile and manly: 
strong silent with the tongue-tied 
cut off packed: cauterized 
razed with rods and spoiled inside 
itching lichens 
living in my domicile

You can call me by my name but it changes
You can call me by my name but it changes 

Raw the Cannibal
hungry like an animal
in the joints of benkei's armor
corroding ages , crushing cannonballs

Azlan the lion
dreambt benevolent, but dying
crushed by the weight of a stories tall

told, tapestries heavy and wet in the folds

A Hundred years in the drying

You can call me by my name but it changes
You can call me by my name but it changes

Left leaning right, hobbled on thru the night
Aged in winters, full moons cold and bright
survivor and fighter 
and lover and liar 
big fish in dire
crooked straights 
hope clasping/crushing
as these puddles get drier:

UnKillable

You can call me by my name
But it changes.

My name is John; my name is Mud
bearing witness to histories
written in ink, steel and blood :
"Year 89
In being everyone I've not yet come closer 
to bearing a banner with my own name
new and fresh from the ether
wet with mystery 
born to hang in Heroes' hallways 
collecting dust with the greater sum of our parts"