Curtain Call

gong sounded a summons




marching orders


exorcism of the ghosts

squashed by the machine

deus ex machina.

are they syncopated sycophants?

statutory statuary

dotting the grassy knoll

they stand ramrod straight

striated fire hydrants

expelling geysers against those

who talk out of school.

no desk standing here –

synchronized solidarity

in beleaguered entreaty

carpe diem! – seize that day

while it still exists.

pigeon hole stool pigeons

deny the reality of that rat

gnawing Achilles while you kick

helpless flailing

scrambling rodents underfoot.

greying of the line between

sanity and madness

encroaches – winter dusk.

they sing a song of sixpence

fill pockets as we die

in techno – technicolor

synthesized and sidelined

screeching vox nihili

Published by

Aurora Phoenix

I write as Aurora Phoenix. Nine months ago my world shattered. Unexpectedly and dramatically arrested, I have been incarcerated ever since, as I await the unbearably slow machinations of the system. Devoid of verbal communication that is unmonitored, pen and paper have served as my truest outlet for grief, fear and angst. Armed with toilet paper for intermittently copious tears, my motions experience and reflections are PaperMate poured. In this chapter of my life, I write.

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