Escape
Skyler Andrews

Escape,
For sale
To gods and goddesses,
Peasants and thieves,
Sinners and saints,
Killers and doctors;
Heaven prescribed
For picture-wanderers,
The keys are wrapped in paper and burned,
The dimensional portal opens,
Spilling gray and smelling tart;
Tickets to Purgatory,
Half-off, to anyone interested who’s tired of walking in others’ dreams,
Leading others to their escape
In the widely-worshipped windowed box of bits…
Move back…Get back…
Free passes to Wonderland, looking glass and all!
Your own gear and keys and souvenirs to, for, and from the ride;
Play a game with your soul to win!
Showcasing:
Mysticism in a can!—or a bottle—or a pretty little spear…
War against the demons in your glitz-weary brain,
And wash them away with Scope—sorry, we do not provide a Listerine for all of that.
See God—or one of His best impersonators—tonight, along with a winged muse,
Who will dance, and screw you and your whim.
Become a motel Mohammed, a jukebox Jesus, a back alley Buddha, a lysergic L. Ron Hubbard….
Hell for sale—lay with a monster as with a woman and casually hump your way to an abomination…
Your spirit becomes one with a spiny dragon; it’s tendrils massage you sweetly and gently before they start to choke.
Fun!!!


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