We are not made in the image of our keeper
but divested of iron roots
fly liberated into soaken cloud
joining specter who, watching
sees our folly
silly human toil
petty argument, for the sake of greed
What the corn, what the seed?
Shall save us from subversion
by our bashless vanity
this possessed nail
Salem itches without choice
if bewitched, innocent
if possessed, invited inchantment
strange sexual undertow in all
Maypole season fitting in grass
grasping poker of control
children accuse stiffling, starched adults
who pinched their playtime to pieces
power wielded in fragmentary follow
no power! I have no power!
I’m a child!
So dunk, dunk, burn, hang, get it?
Get it? We’re the Tarot
the pigs fat marrow taking over carnival
with pantomime sriek
you witness, see us, take seriously
our untethered play
Witch, wizard, gargoyle, goblin, phantom, spectral
girl in bondage, corset of metal
what lurks beneath this town’s sheets?
white and starched
so violent, so lush
like saved up passions, positions
monsters lusting after our darkest parts