…and when the light came,

I saw the entourage of demons

you bemoaned during the long night,

while I collected your tears

in my shoulder, they were

chained and locked to your hips like


spokes in a wheel

circling you,  chanting

and snickering

Tangled, wicked metal

knots around your feet

Below your waist


you writhed in agony,  ensnared,

but your face-

in your face  I found the Mona Lisa-

and as you tripped and limped  away

I saw the keys you had hidden

in your back pocket


and sympathy turned to fury

the sun burned hot

while I contemplated

angels and demons and

forty days and forty nights

of torture


then walked away,


cursing you ,

for damning me.



you write

poems?  that’s cool

he purred, hiding his hand.

where do you get material?

I laughed.