The Black Cape of Fall

The Black Cape of Fall             

((remembering the good times with the devilish Bob Fraser and his beloved Bev))

The season has found a chair
at night in this room
It watches drowsily
as its air pours
through a four inch gap
on the double hung window
that normally keeps the summer
at bay with its argon-filled panes
Cool air that flows
along the ducts
has been ended
with a painful trip
down this walker-stuffed hall
to the thermostat
where electric savings
diminishes the summons
for payment that stings
a hot checkbook
with all the force
of the daubers
that circle the door

At last
he may sleep beneath blankets
to hide from the scratching
of fearful mice
who begin their assault
on this fortress
with all its snapping defenses
plus a healthy dose
from a Borgia's ring
upon something yummy
at a table of horror
for these mammalian munchers

As this villain perceives
the growth of a snore
he sets his black top hat
upon the night table
twists his mustache
one last time
before all his life-long dreams
of evicted old ladies
Pretty Polly tied to tracks
and a baby's stolen candy
begins to give a chill
that forecasts frozen rivers
where packs of red-eyed canines
with sharpened teeth
pull a sled to the next
victim of his happiness

Some unrefined pianist
embellishes each scene
on a badly tuned
upright of evil
This melodrama
proceeds beneath the eyelid of sheets
where no audience can afford
peanuts to throw

nya-ah-ah


Barry G. Wick