Stone Guest Poem by Morgan Michaels

A ring, a rap at the door and you were
there you were in all your gory glory.
The start-up bars to Don Juan's last affair
(when the hard-put servant, content till now to obey
and catch crumbs of pleasure from the master table,
repents-high-tails for cover, crying out loud) :
fearful, hellish, see-what-it-cost-you words
tearful, garish, see-what-it-lost-you chords
blared in my ears. Off sailed a darkling cloud,
wailing, from my brow. 'How's everything', I smiled,
for all that; a gold, light-as-air cloth, besequined,
flew from my mouth, partially grazing your head,
and fluttered to the floor behind you, oh so dead.
'Good to see you after all this time come in'.