In camera obscura
not a minstrel show but black humor
run through and through by the seeker
a microdot of light that strikes the far wall
carrying with it images of the outside world
unseen Lo! these many moons
a swath of innocence bled white
by news of the Great War
This film to be screened with Nikola Tesla
in a private room back of the blind pig
a double-shot of Mickey Finn by wireless
brings Persephone to life; dancing
her robe of gossamer adrift and nebulous
gives direction, and he comes up
from underground to join her
And they dance a lightning waltz
paired motes of dust whirled around the room
in Brownian motion, oblivious to poison gas
blown back and forth across the trenches
indiscriminate as the Sphinx with its plague
and knowing no master but the wind
they whirl around and around
grown pale and breathless, desperate
to break away and sow the seeds
of castles in the air
At last, the music stops
and they embrace, a vanishing act
silent as Rudolph Valentino in The Quest of Life
no applause follows, no trace evidence
a mystery for the ages