Sunday, April 10, 2011

Purge Scenario #1

At an ungodly hour, in my dusty night garb,
I drift into my usual waking notion,
Which takes me to a place foreign to me
In the weeknight’s cemetery hours.

I see you, in uniform, approaching me,
Singing to me a familiar selection
Which here makes sense, while dancing
In a way that just makes you look like......

I’m pulled into a place that I may have seen.
You’ve undone yourself, surrounded by
Scantily-clad women in colorful adornments.
Your newfound audacity amazes me.

You shove me into a nearby chair
And force me to listen as you sing
Of the non-necessity of spoken language
As your concubines dance around you.

Before me I see my investments—
My written verse and my black pearl.
You take my verse and tear it in two;
My Dell baby you grind to dust.

I rage, and scream, and cuss, and attack
But my words are muffled behind your notes.
Your helpers pull me back and away
As I guarantee your immediate death.

Before I can break free to keep my promise
I return to myself and my own dull reality,
Laughing at the thought of my secret boldness,
Hoping this adventure will distance us.

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