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Poem

A covert curtain raiser pulls a string and marvels at an epic scene

	Though parsimonious in essence the stage appears rather obscene

		Black cross and pitch dark raven on bold charcoal sable tapestry

			Ragged clairvoyant who twiddles cross bones by Caron's decree


The program had promised naked clarity and seductive treats

	But now no bodies couple on the wooden floor in satin sheets

		The truth however fresh from history's and other sad cohabitation

			Sours moist appetites and threatens voyeuristic contemplation


A simple box white as true innocence depicts death's surrender

	Rusty nails large as serrated daggers stick out of wood and tender

		For anyone's guess as to who holds the moribund mortal keys

			And for what the final will and wish decides to bequeath


Maybe the dramatist shows kindness after the transmission

	Once champagne flutes held council in one last rendition

		For when audiences in deck chairs recline on the Titanic

			But the fool's vessel succumbs even when Satan is manic


Spectators wait on fleshy bums for anything to be told and relieve

	The grandstand platform from misery far too mournful to conceive

		But while the actors carry on with epilogues and future insanity

			There is no second act and no dress rehearsal for humanity


10th April 2020

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