You’ve been there,
that familiar trepidation
of isolation,
of vulnerability,
of Jason and Freddy,
lurking in unseen corners,
a crescendo mounting ,
the gilded sound of scissors slicing,
another chapter,
another victim,
deliciously served for a banqueted audience.
Yet,
your innate curiosity,
perched upon your shoulder
like little men of conscience,
whispers, guiltily, of such silliness,
coax you forward down the alleyway.
Like a soothsayer’s premonition,
your intuition pleads to no avail,
as reason and logic give sway to
the zombie obedience of inevitability.
However,
you reach the gated door sooner than expected,
a speak-easy door slides back,
greetings exchange,
and just like that,
the knotted stomach gives way to
the familiar aroma of stale beer,
yellowed dim lights,
crunched peanut shells,
as you slip into your chair at the bar.
A scotch is immediately served and downed,
the warmed belly beckons another,
as you look around the place,
confirming your chance to live for another day.
-Mark Trubisky
Inspired by the painting “Back Entrance”
Copyright © 2002 Yellow Brick Road Gallery. All
rights reserved in pictorial or written representation.
Revised: 01/07/06.