This Way to Woodstock

Inscrutable gaze of a coin-faced Moon

The sonorous cry of a lark felled in June

I spilled forth from my window like ribbons of paint

My blood running ragged, no hint of restraint

•♾•

Comporting myself as a helix of cells

I flew towards the clang of insidious bells

Beneath skies so deprived of their prodigal Sun

Stood a beast made of meat I had long come to shun

•♾•

Its texture was that of a coarsely purled knit

Gnashing teeth may describe it as 25-grit

Draping ears kissed the pavement; a nose grazed my own

Though the skull remained orbless, its vacancies shone

•♾•

I scaled graying flanks and gathered the reins

Said monster of sinew, my guide 'cross the Plains

On Highway 13, we encountered a sign

Woodstock

10 Miles

A faint yellow line

•♾•

Our path, wholly blocked by a cadre, a fright

Their flesh, that of paper; their grins, born of spite

May we pass? I implored, every nerve red and raw

You shan't hissed their leader, still whetting its maw

•♾•

This army of corpses, I've since come to see

Had eyes carved from jade

They were copies—

All me