Ringed
Inside kaleidoscopic brimstone
A Hieronymus Bosch Vegas strip
Sans tourist
Smothering vapors of sulfuric mists
Tortures gasping breath
Ya wanna scream
“Mommy”
But
Mommy ain’t here
Fish faced generic pedestrians
whose idea of a good time
Is a home carpentry project
Approved by Norm himself
They sit behind reinforced
Plexiglas
In air conditioned
Save-way stores
Pleading
For discounts
And
The real deal
The demonic choir
Sing
Johnny Cash
With guitars
Made of human skulls
Stringed with the sinews
Of dead heroes
Big D
Enters
The circle
Wit a
Impeccably coiffured
Elvis Doo
I guess everybody
Loves
The king
“You staying Poet?”
“Don’t think so D
But thanks for
Asking”
“Ya know Your time is coming”
“Decided?
“Up or down?
“Think I might start
My own afterlife D
Big D
Gives me an Elvis
My Way flourish
Swirling his black sequined cape
Getting into that phony
Elvis karate stance.
“Sounds interesting Poet
You always did know how to style
If you need a hand
You know where to find me”
“Cool D”
And I rolled.
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