Goya wakens my mind’s jukebox

Now that I am with you again

As your bare feet prod now

The rockin’ Coachella stage

Impenetrable with potent energy

Paranormally stored within

 

An electricity of violent sounds

(Some musical, some gratingly not:)

All blending into the promise

Of your private performance

For me — sly nocturnal interloper

Into a witch’s forbidden realm

 

Disembodied reason short-circuits

Severed minds in a crucible

Of your latent godchild’s making

As hope sounds a hollow call

To an army of dead ears lurking

Around the harp of human gut-strings

 

Your fingers pluck slowly

In a rhythm for preternatural being:

I hear an exotic clarion buzz

Whispering its echo before I pass out

Into the fetal embrace your tattooed arms

Bring to my forgotten body’s dirge.

 

by Peter Magliocco