qarrtsiluni

Past Cerberus-headed security men
VIP admission seduction-guaranteed
among stuffed couches and cavernous lounges

A studied glimpse at a closed circle of hell
where man eats man till there is nothing left
cold-blooded lizards repose in the limelight

Surrounded by mysterious pieces of detritus
a patchwork of brick and textured plaster
the bodies gouged and the skin punctured

Strutting for the paparazzi then slinking
scurrying away here an African fetish
there the head of a doge in alabaster

Flaking Formica tabletops displayed
as splattered paintings their wild beauty
of outright decay and its cousin accident

Time’s ability to turn anything into art
whether man-made or genuine and natural
the posed the candid stillborn and mundane

The great confusion of life imitating life
a skull covered jewel-like with scarabs
that holds a dead rat in its gapping mouth

But grimmest of all were the star’s handlers
there being no such thing as bad publicity
in the line between fame and misfortune

What I liked best is it got us fucked up
we partied so hard we woke up the dead
it was the final blackout of the year

by Alex Cigale

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