The Crossraods
a place where ghosts
reside to whisper into
the ears of travellers &
interest them in their fate
Hitchhiker drinks:
"I call again on the dark
hidden gods of blood"
-Why do you call us?
You know our price. It
never changes. Death of
you
will give you life
& free you from a
vile
fate. But it is getting late.
-If I could see you again
& talk w/ you, & walk a
short while in your company,
& drink the heady brew
of your conversations,
I thought
-to rescue a soul already
ruined. To achieve respite.
To plunder green gold
on a pirate raid & bring
to camp the glory of old.
-As the capesman faces
poisoned horns & drinks
red victory; the soldier,
too, w/ his trophy, a
pierced helmet; & the
ledge-walker shuddering
his way into inward grace
-(laughter) Well, then.
Would
you mock yourself?
-No.
-Soon our voices must become
one,
or one must leave.
