Their words were clear
every thing made sense.
That's why we prayed
for the grieving lovers
and built a never altar there.
We laughed in glee
as wavy-haired toads
postured posthumously
on the vain, bloated corpses
of dead philosophers.
Like prancing peacocks
the dead and they
danced for us
As we shouted "Encore!"
until we could shout no more.
All the while shadow puppets
played out the ominous, sand-swept
breaking gyrations
of impotent admirals
lost in the desert.
We jesters danced together
they for us
we for them
as they grasped at air
with invisible words
in desperate need;
Timeless children
mischievously baiting
their intention
entertaining life and its pageantry.
daf
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