2015 10 31
The infinite ennui of bleak gray skies
lours over suburban houses at sunset
where faces of the dead from every nation
watch me from glowing windows of contempt.
We wear masks of their faces to inquire
why they refuse to explain their despair
for the sad tales of their demise are sewn
in curtains of respectability.
I reach my hand in television tube
and acquire new hero mask to wear home
after paddling wood boat to jagged shore
where blind wizard teaches me alchemy.
Children flock like ducks on suburban streets,
holding plastic pumpkins with glowing eyes,
while Hecate lurks behind polished doors
and smiles silver moonlight from flashing eyes.
The most powerful wizard in the world,
wearing long shabby academic jacket,
makes children transform into long-dead souls
who dance around fire in ring of glass towers.
Come into palace of forgotten dreams,
and search through labyrinth of ancient myths
where masks of every god worshipped by men
stare mute from the gallery of our hopes.