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A Shoebox Diorama

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Drops of Juno descend as rain,
Invisible strings disappearing in veins,
I slip, like a doltish fly on glass,
Into the mane of a headless horse.

For Elise, I shall cast a Jazz stupor,
Condemn the Plague with the Holocaust,
And when the Last Supper comes to call,
Stab your brother for the Roman fall.

Paper soldiers and exiled archers
Mount their aim on creased swans,
The dark cardboard chains you to the oppressor’s cause,
A moment of moonshine, an eternity of religion.

These little pigs donning a red hood,
Hide their porridge in a giant bean stalk,
Hurry! Throw that poisonous apple
At the big crooked wolf.

Adjourn from your weeping under the Christmas tree,
And stare at the forlorn mime’s craze,
A teaspoon of claps, a slapstick of screams,

A shoebox diorama of scattered scenes. 

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