TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
“The back is bared!”
“Aha!” Then shoot!”
“Beat!”
“Mock!”
“Jeer!”
“Destroy and pull the hair!”
You wrote the stage directions
in a plot of script;
collected royalties;
danced its lies
across a dim-lit
crypted
cyclorama
Hungry claws applauded
lauded
called for more
encores;
manacled leered
you bowed
Did you not read the Scroll?
The writing on the wall?
Hear the prophet’s call?
Ask not for whom the curtains close
beneath the rubble of the pit
you have bull-dozed.
They close for you.
EDITOR’S NOTE