2:58 A.M.

A Poem by j. w. lodwick

Two fifty eight a.m.Moonlight;
reflects faces within the halls,
I see these faces amid hollow places,
and recite frames of silent fall—now,
their names; I can’t know them all,
but they watch with burning eyes,
haunted walls amid haunted night;
crept like slow-twisted insanity,
when said—mutter breathe, breathe

Old, glorious day; some time when time died,
from whence the grave walker should reside,
haunts demoness from the heart of I,
this woman, this night, this mind.

From a ten spread to joker; call—
two of clubs, four of diamonds,
flip, fail, flip, fail, flip:
trump takes the player, again,
you can’t kill a killer, when,
three twelve crept by to send,
devil to the orifice again.

Faces; come in from where the thing crawls,
like a steady, slow slithering serpent stalks;
ten second intervals of spirit-lingered halls,
amid them all, a greater man shall fall.

Feed the greed with serpent’s soul—he…
thirsts, he… thirsts.