In the world of nightmares
don’t journey to
the Island of the Dolls
where plastic specters
are suspended from ghoulish trees
watching all
how they beckon you
to journey forth
your weaknesses marked
your darkness explored
floating through the canals
sailing over spirits
laying in watery sleep
this land, lush and lying
the lurid and creepy…whispering
less than hallowed tales
the sweet cadence of misery
sinking into bones…
Oh little girl
who never rests
washed from the canals
the weeping wails
clouding water with tears
the refugee hermit
he found you there
hung the dolls
in those jagged branches
appeasing in remorse
no pudo salvarla
decaying dolls
now multiplied over the years
never ending, offending
vessels for spirits
desiring more souls
to spill out upon
this haunted ground….
Ancien Hippie 