Le Momo:

Good thing I got this far, Antonin, the die was cast, but they were only dice.
Little storms roil to life, a sleep ago the demons slept, no sense predicting when.
You would recognize your nightmares, they wear tuxedos and gowns
and oil their conversation with wit and pleasantries, spill salt
from their jaunt to the ocean, when they were young and foolish facts..
Roar, Artaud! Turn your back to see what looms! Whisper in my ear!

(18 February 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander