Issue #20 (2011) PDF - myweb - Long Island University

UNMASKED
You always play yourself as tragic queen.
At every gathering you cast a pall,
show off your wounds and scars to one and all.
I believed you back when I was young and green.
The curtain rises on this present scene.
Your back‘s against the crumbling castle wall.
The guttersnipe in you knows how to brawl
when cornered—vents an ample spleen.
Your mask of tragedy begins to slip,
reveals the startled countenance behind.
The self-deluding plot starts to unwind.
Struggling to adjust your tilted crown,
clutching the train of your artfully tattered gown,
you sweep offstage. Be careful now. Don‘t trip.
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