Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Making Up

That’s what he was doing, this:

I rode the bus back north. I was nobody’s now. Not even Mexico’s. Especially Mexico.

It was all made up. He knew why
he was here. Henrietta Murphy.
Danny St. Clair, father of Bobby,
took her baby Bobby from her
and she went to hell. Follow
her there. Bobby found her
in a room of her own in Mexico
City, above the Hotel Ibero lobby,

and that was all for his nighttime break. He left her in hell with a big H. Orpheus would
bring her back. How could her son pose as Orpheus, all he knew was this: what was it?
Persephone among the damned. She did what she must to stay alive, there were so many
there. They wore their skins like sheathes put on to tempt and lure the paying customer.

He couldn’t stop making it up,
he drank what was in the cup,

and all the lights were going out,
all but his, this was not night

but day without end,
dreaming the work ahead.

(15 February 2012)

copyright 2012 by Floyce Alexander

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