The show
I have a dark room in my mind
that I enter on neglected days
festooned with horrifying
cold, damp, and still
hanging in unending space and recurring time
I see passing processions of gaiety and grief
to emote an appropriate response
unaware of past or any clue of future.
The trickster on the street
entertains an absent audience
his skinny body folds up
and he dance in deathly frenzy
for the moment
to exist.
