a man walks a narrow path
he is diverted yet
by passers by
as squadrons of garish scarlet ladies appear
they whistle through the trees quivering
their knees shaking in fear
even greed
as dance floors vibrate
a penny for their tumult a penny more for their suffering
what right man would have this blood red horror
what agent of Lucifer would have it some other way
Flynnpoetry 