Poem: Hollywood

“A storm is coming”
whispered the wind,
“Ill tidings soon to visit thee”.
Darkness, thunder claps to flash,
no escape from this iniquity.
No cheek or wisp of hair unbreathed,
as evil wends it way round us,
coming out, the closet gone
sin sitting at the bus’s front.
Those with eyes, let them see,
with ears, to hear the evil gong,
calling demons to the party
they’ve been running all along.
Bloody fields strewn of souls
pile up in Hollywood;
the demon yell is running hard
our spirits good, the tasty food.
But eyes are closed and ears are stopped,
“Squeeze tight! Might it go away?”
The horde you wish disappeared,
aught but stronger every day.
The pitchers’ lifted, water sloshed,
the carpenter has hid his tools,
allowing demons backstage pass
to winnow self-indulgent fools.