Abbey Someone…

Young Frankenstein

Foolish Festivals and misleading masquerades,

Abbeys and alleys full of creatures that parade.

Rotting corpses hoisted o’er their drunken heads,

Decorated with dangling  intestine necklaces;

Innocent blood painting immoral faces.

It is a day of celebration,

Jubilation, marking the grand death;

The infamous death of normalcy.

“We are divine!”

“We are gods!”

Roars the masqued mob.

Embracing their quasimodalistic desires,

Rejecting even the thought or perfection of hope.

(The refinement too harsh, too unyielding.)

Staggering and hunched, they stumble about

being drunk, on the wine of their own acceptance.

Gorging on the moldy bread of notoriety and damnation,

They consume the Eucharist of unholiness.

In cathedrals constructed of bells and belfries alone,

They pay homage to a visage marred only by birth,

Mimicry and disdain, are the remaining redemption.

“Look at me” a drunken jester pleads,

“Just as I am…

Look upon my gorgeous grotesqueness,

The displeasing of my deformities,

And the sheer hideousness of my strength!”

(adjuration and applause rise from the indignant throng.)

Uncomfortable comfort uncovered in irreverent deviance

…Finally profanity belongs.

Is carefree gaiety fuel for the incessant laughter that ensues?

Or is it nervousness, stoked by the existential embers of fear?

What convention or perversion cannot be  stripped away?

(Supplant-ous smiles and facetious nods cannot masque truth.)

Each exhausted guest dances and writhes unconscionably

through the courtyards and gardens,

Toward the fountain in the town square

Where the good King is seated, just and fair

His un-tame face draws stern as the ghastly masses infiltrate,

like hot oil being poured in a pristine spring.

He raises the sceptre for all to see

silencing the riotousness scene.

“Who are you all?” demands the Resolute Ruler,

“Reveal yourselves truly and without guile.”

The decree falls hard, disseminating the delusion.

The recompense for reality is due.

Trembling, they dismantle each disguise.

They are shamefully left standing in,

Nothing, but their original skin.

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