Revelations in the Funhouse
Alan Lisanti
Crystal sheen reflective wallpaper
refracted light like folded tin foil
an angular function
activated upon alignment
specific degrees
in a veil of illusion
the mind never sees it coming
the eyes blind them to it
not in the offering of darkness
not in concession to the wool
in the distortion of circumstance
the exaggeration of fiction
encouraged by the ease
with which it's coaxed into
manipulation
trapping your tendencies
the walls don't need to move
the war is waged on thresholds
fear dilutes the rational
as vulnerability extends
in it's absence
here or there
here and there
there are, simply
subtle and extreme
variations
the mirrors only feed
natures innate need
for second guessing
herein, on this
pattern is built
the labyrinth of seduction
and therein you have found
the poison in the berry
of demise as bittersweet
the residual intoxication
numb desensitization
descent into the suspension
of your own disbelief
it always comes full circle
conscience and shadow
questions and answers
images and shapes
pendulum and punishment
because the mind
is destroyed by
the thoughts it creates
now the palace
is a prison for you
now you can sleep
even if you're awake
in the shelter and
shroud of comfort
the paradox of
delusion
waits
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