Spirit Ghost

Ghostfeathers hung in the air
after the pair of them were
pentacled to the unruly
tree; nowhere to go but up
jump the devil & the joucular
imp.  Enter the worm
like you’re walking into
the maw of the sun licking
the tip for to scrawl
the names of the kings
in mauve on the new walls
of the old kingdom in the
days of spirits
in the sky which had yet
to fall & the skalds who
had yet to be
tossed from their towers.
The moment hangs there
forever, precarious
on its lone stone pillar,
& then it's exit through
the celestial
elevator, its sudden
plunge a punch
in the gut for those of us
who thought we were
staying for dinner. 

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