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An Elegy for Summer

This is euphoria: the art of painstakingly purging blistered and withered melanin. This is apocalypse: the wait, waiting and waiting for the tear of vapours, of sweat and oil. Summer is judgement season, death and resurrection.

Escapology

how fascinating
spectators paying
good money to view
a live art of escape –
a human being
on the centerstage
restrained and confined
ankles locked into a frame
dangled upside down
in a glass tank full of water
gasping for air
with clear and present danger
on the verge of dying
without illusions
suspenseful
his life a fragile thing
with all that staging
cheating death
is reduced to
a mere spectacle
a theatrical occasion
rewarded with ovations

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