The High Note

The fat lady, lips in shape of par excellence “O.” The viking hat makes her taller and more ominous. Faces flicker like torches in the dead of night. operatic score the deafening metal shriek — pissant rodent ears Doomed shadows quiver where the flesh will pay. The knees never knew such fright. Warmth of imperiled relief, embarrassed release. the polished silver patient to plunge or hashtag — a trustworthy thrust The blood that’s splayed — an afterthought. Its grip taut and unyielding. cleansing of chalice the sparkling wine in tribute — sheathing of anger 9/19/2018