Entrance: A Tragedy of Epic Proportions
(I wrote this in the past couple weeks.)
Entrance: A Tragedy of Epic Proportions
by Suzanne Musin
I ran to the car
in rain like none have seen
since Noah's great flood in the bible
or since last Tuesday-
that was pretty bad too.
I ran to the car
anxious to meet my life inside
to meet my fate inside
to meet my umbrella inside.
No person more keen than I to reach
the passenger door.
Oh passenger door!
This handle is mine!
I will step inside you, beautiful car,
and find safe haven from rushing tide of sky-filled ocean.
But all my world ends with crack of thunder
crack of engineered locks of demonic depravity.
Oh bright car, faithful passenger door,
thou hast betrayed my love
thou hast torn my heart in two
for no sooner gripped I your dear handle
but on other side of the world,
or across parking lot,
across span of loathsome car,
supposèd friend of untold histories
unlocks our doors
our minds
our destinies
by magically charged keychain remote
supplied to her by bitter dwarves who
never feel sunlight and therefore
regrettably
never are stricken with skin cancer
which would have been their due.
And what desperate moment!
what punished expectations!
for same moment I pulled
and scratched and begged,
this handle of two-faced chicanery
executed its fraud
barring me, only me!
while all other doors threw open their gates-
even the gates of heaven and Graceland
(similar in purpose, but one claiming
the gaudier wallpaper).
“Come in!” they cried,
“Come away from the thunder
and feast on our feastings;
purchase this beautiful, Elvis-covered umbrella.
But not yon passenger door.
I alone am targeted in cruel jest
thrashed for my naivety
laughingstock of sun-cancerless, bitter dwarves.
“WHY do you remain locked?” I cry,
my faith in all divine forces wrecked
unending the shame of situation hopeless
for I must admit my folly-
must allow to friend across
that despite what she expects
and has always believed
I am not yet perfect
nor even omniscient.
“Oh close and trusted friend,” I cry,
“near to me in my darkest hour,
might you not find it
within your charitable heart
to lift me from this evident anguish
once again performing your mighty duty
which all may not fail to respect in awe
and unlock simple doors of noble car?
For I fear they attracted some strange disease
and for reasons beyond my humble comprehension
good passenger door remains yet locked
though I know not why-
certainly nothing I did.
It might have been the dwarves.”
She feels my frenzied torment
and because she is a friend
curses these dwarves on my behalf
(which sounds very dramatic in downpour of rain)
and she presses magic unlock button
this second, vital, delightful time
and a light beams down from Graceland
and I open my door
and we step inside
to meet our drier destinies.
Entrance: A Tragedy of Epic Proportions
by Suzanne Musin
I ran to the car
in rain like none have seen
since Noah's great flood in the bible
or since last Tuesday-
that was pretty bad too.
I ran to the car
anxious to meet my life inside
to meet my fate inside
to meet my umbrella inside.
No person more keen than I to reach
the passenger door.
Oh passenger door!
This handle is mine!
I will step inside you, beautiful car,
and find safe haven from rushing tide of sky-filled ocean.
But all my world ends with crack of thunder
crack of engineered locks of demonic depravity.
Oh bright car, faithful passenger door,
thou hast betrayed my love
thou hast torn my heart in two
for no sooner gripped I your dear handle
but on other side of the world,
or across parking lot,
across span of loathsome car,
supposèd friend of untold histories
unlocks our doors
our minds
our destinies
by magically charged keychain remote
supplied to her by bitter dwarves who
never feel sunlight and therefore
regrettably
never are stricken with skin cancer
which would have been their due.
And what desperate moment!
what punished expectations!
for same moment I pulled
and scratched and begged,
this handle of two-faced chicanery
executed its fraud
barring me, only me!
while all other doors threw open their gates-
even the gates of heaven and Graceland
(similar in purpose, but one claiming
the gaudier wallpaper).
“Come in!” they cried,
“Come away from the thunder
and feast on our feastings;
purchase this beautiful, Elvis-covered umbrella.
But not yon passenger door.
I alone am targeted in cruel jest
thrashed for my naivety
laughingstock of sun-cancerless, bitter dwarves.
“WHY do you remain locked?” I cry,
my faith in all divine forces wrecked
unending the shame of situation hopeless
for I must admit my folly-
must allow to friend across
that despite what she expects
and has always believed
I am not yet perfect
nor even omniscient.
“Oh close and trusted friend,” I cry,
“near to me in my darkest hour,
might you not find it
within your charitable heart
to lift me from this evident anguish
once again performing your mighty duty
which all may not fail to respect in awe
and unlock simple doors of noble car?
For I fear they attracted some strange disease
and for reasons beyond my humble comprehension
good passenger door remains yet locked
though I know not why-
certainly nothing I did.
It might have been the dwarves.”
She feels my frenzied torment
and because she is a friend
curses these dwarves on my behalf
(which sounds very dramatic in downpour of rain)
and she presses magic unlock button
this second, vital, delightful time
and a light beams down from Graceland
and I open my door
and we step inside
to meet our drier destinies.