After the Devil’s Fingers (Clathrus archeri)
The devil’s fingers play a cheerful tune;
salvation in a lively major key.
“You want to reach the stars, the sun, the moon?
“Then, move your feet and bind yourself to me!”
he whispers promises, composed of dust.
There’s something shifty in his shiftless grin;
the genesis of arrogant disgust.
A shiver xylophones along your ribs
and plays an anxious rhythm on your spine.
Demonic in his scheming, he ad-libs
an anthem, so bewitching and malign.
and lures them with deceitful melodies.