Back To The Abyss Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The cats
That revere in the night,
And the fidgeting
Of the dogs
Are pernicious turbulences
That hinder me from somnolence.

A surge
Of the moon’s resilient streaks
Enrapture my numb senses
There is a caravan
At the far end of the street
And they finagle me
Into joining them

And then the tigers
Come, with unsheathed baleful fangs
Like portentously rusting blades
From sepulchral scabbards.
Tearing my vestal flesh,
And demolishing my virile stance,

I am back to the pit
That has sequestered
All of me.