I closed my eyes, ruby curtains on the stage,
Intermission compelled me to absorb
The ninety-nine acts that came before,

Reflect on what each moved in me, the first
A moonless night on Lycabettus hill.

Elatedly losing what can only be lost, once,
I still hear the howling dogs, plunge
Into the sapphire waters of the Aegean Sea

Hiding amidst fishing boats breaths of intimacy.
Out of my shell Act two unveiled the world, of humans,
A glimpse, a touch, a word, an idea, music.

What we needed was a miracle on earth said Ray,
Whilst humming Helloween we dreamt perusing space.
We could fly, like the king of the sky

could not tumble nor fall, we would picture it all,
Reach the temperature of stars.

Blithe adolescence we forgot to remember
Each other until Rain poured on Sakamoto’s piano
A crescendo of sentiments a prelude

To a Roman drama, I believe it was Act thirty-three.
Entranced by narcotics we recited Dante’s Comedy,
Hallucinating paradise expedients set us loose

To escape, reality. And then came the blues
In crocodile boots the sweetest eyes alas imbued
With gloom. Betwixt Champaign and Reefer

A guitar a harmonica and a pebbled square,
Night after night we waited on a train
Bound for glory that never arrived. Diderot tried,

To convince me that life was not mine,
For Jacques said that his master said that everything
good or evil we encounter here below was written on high,

To my rescue Cuban melodies begged to differ
So I wrote a revolution dancing me to awareness
Engendering my progeny a script against determinism

Giving order to a universe of chaotic elegance a surreal affair
Invited me to open the window and the door
Letting in Portuguese whispers to see the sun.

Yet at Act ninety-nine shilly-shallying I withdrew,
Cognitive dissonance back into my shell
I opened my eyes, ruby curtains on the stage,

A crowded dress circle compels me
To deliver my last act.

[Featured painting: artist unknown]