Shhh! Softly Tread

~ no, I despair not ~

“Guernica” detail by Pablo Picasso

Quietly quietly if you please —

Lest we stir up demons.

Are the guns of the undead dead?

Holiness fled?

Blood put to bed?

Verboten!

Forbidden fruit, no touching.

Mustn’t ask or

*They’ll come for me at three in the afternoon

Or even midnight, very inconvenient.

Fate of poets, you see,

And fierce duendes.

To their dreaded tread,

I’ll whisper

Shhh

Burnt babies are resting …

Silence!

Commands sun’s

Dragonfire breath

Forever pitiless,

All that’s umbriferous,

Scorched.

“Were torn flesh and screams

Not enough for me?”

Lest you stir up demons

Let your songs

Sing to themselves.

On moon’s grey shoulder,