For Anita Marie

MANHOLES

pay heed my children
to your fine fantasies
of portals to wonders
and lonely worlds unknown.

with a screech and a clang
spinning round about,
pry up the shields
that close guard yer soul.

they be coins on the eyes
of the unrest dead,
and rondels of armor
on breastplates of horror.

with a screech and a clang
spinning round about,
pry up the shields
that close guard yer soul.

what is not found within
must be ever without,
so gird your bold heart
for a moment of truth.

as you pry up the lids
of the cauldrons of fear,
you beg things to enter
that your heart may not bear.

with a screech and a clang
spinning round about,
pry up the shields
that close guard yer soul.