Liza Granville

Sun down and the dark advances

shredding the light with barbed wire claws.

What colour red the red rose now?

philosophers howl from ivor-

rapunzel dead exit towers.

What price my silence? the mad man

has the answer(s) but knows better,

smiles at the moon and sings in tongues.

And who values my chastity?

smirks the Virgin raising her hem

to show wooden legs, feet of clay.

Quick! grab what you can while you can,

it’s nearly over: four horsemen

in place and the carousel grinds

to a halt. but beware of day,

day’s nothing but a dream-locust.