by Pavel Chichikov
I traveled to a despot's home
Don't ask how for I can't tell you
But I was there and wandered through
A suite of dim and low roofed rooms
Outside – where? – a northeast wind
Whipped the trees from side to side
But here within a buried place
The cryptic bleakness of a fiend
Weak silver light came through the glass
Sunlight, or synthetic source
Transmitted from fluorescent tubes
Excited by electric force
I rambled through, a delegate
Of some committee authorized
To view this venue of the state
This alternate unused
I saw an empty chamber
Where the absent ogre was to sleep,
The image of the faceless figure
He'd see when he awoke
Everything about the rooms
Was stinking with uncanny fear
Because the spirit of the man
Was here, and yet not here
And as I was about to leave
A plainclothes agent closed a door –
Who was I to wander here
He asked – what for?
It was a deadly sober test
Preliminary to arrest –
I spoke, not being at a loss:
I am an agent of the cross
Visit Pavel's Website at The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov.
