For Some Reason by Jason Ryberg

For Some Reason

The night sky is alive tonight

with glittering Diamelle

and chittering super-strings

of crickets,

like sleigh bells, almost,

with their near-hypnotic ringing.

And the shadows thrown

from streetlamps are teeming

with these freaky hybrid angel / demon things.

And me, I’m whistling Do Wah Diddy in the dark,

stumbling, half-blind, through a graveyard

on my way home from the bar.

And the trees are whispering the latest news

and the grass is strongly advising me to

just lay down and relax.

But hey, there’s no time for that

‘cause somewhere, out there tonight,

there’s a pale, wing’d horse on someone’s roof

hoofing out the secret code

for the answers to all our troubles

(or, maybe just the winning lotto numbers).

And there’s a weaselly little rat-man

in a long, black coat and top hat

sniffing and prancing about the intersection

of Bedlam and Squalor, calling out,

children, I have lollipops, children!

And a wolf in hobo’s clothing

is standing at someone’s sub-suburban back door,

inquiring, sheepishly, about a billy goat

or chosen one or somethin’,

and a sad, sad boy is singin’ a curb mouth blues

about a crown that’s been seized

by a new king of fools.

And, for some reason, I’m seriously feelin’

like I’m about to be on the business end of some kind

of low-to-mid-level divine judgment (for something

I’m not sure I even did) manifesting itself, maybe,

as a low-hanging tree-limb or slavering set of jaws

charging wildly from out of the dark or old-school

locker-room towel-snap of enlightenment

from The Almighty, Him Self.

 And He’s urging all his angels and demons alike to

engage target with extreme prejudice!

‘Cause the word flittering, moth-like,

through the trees this evening has it that

the Moon has put a price of thirty silver-pieces

on all our fool heads...

those who would dare wander

into her dark garden

without some secret intrigue

to be party to

or some mysterious stranger

to kiss.