giovedì 5 marzo 2020

Halloween Hell

by Sandro D. Fossemò

(Translated from Italian to English)

Between the prongs
of my rusty pitchfork
I am dazzled
by a light as white as the sun,
in the golden twilight 
of my barn.
The peeling walls are lit
by the devilish smile
of a gleaming and orange face.
It's the Halloween pumpkin!
Popped up from hell!
The spectre lies
on the wooden cart...
It looks like a lantern
simmering in the straw.
How splendid!

Famished wolves
roam like demons.
The howling echoes
inside me like thunder.

A deer skull
dangles, suspended from a chain,
in the bowels of the forest.
The air is light and pestiferous.

Witches fly above
faded horizons.
The mirror of a colourless world
draws in their dead.

Warriors in the afterlife
advance to the beat of drums,
in the cemetery of simulations.

The fire reigning
in the pumpkins devours dreams.

The torches burn in the cellar
like stars shining in the sky.

A fog of smoke
engulfs a merry-go-round
overcome by mummies.

A green gelatinous liquid
oozes out of screens.
Dummies break the window
of a video game gone crazy.
Empty and synthetic masks
writhe on the ground,
impaled by a pitchfork.
The monsters disappear 
in the chasm of darkness.

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