HARLEQUIN’S CARNIVAL
I enter through the window, a sky
of impossible blue over my shoulder,
the sun, a spiky black and white,
above a red spire in fluid motion
and the black pointed mountain
that cuts the air like a razor sharp
Catalan sword:
the room I am in now
is in full nightmare bloom,
all severed eyes and creatures
real and imagined from deep
in the subconscious stream;
objects I recognize from far and near,
instruments of music or torture,
body parts and a festival of fear,
floating bits of undigested food
and prancing amoeba who seem to be
looking straight at me –
while the severed body parts
and eyes captured on full display
have a worried look
but what frightens
me even more is that I have been
in this room before, and despite
the warnings sounding in my head
begin to climb the ladder
past the waiting creatures
whose eyes follow me even out of sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment