Annette, as wraith, remembering when
the emoticon of fear presented,
when the savage effigy inserted himself,
wanting nefarious dialogue between the two.
It pleased him, as the loathsome renegade doll
followed her shadow across the floor.
Annette now wears her mantilla like a second scalp,
especially in the storm-that of Robert’s great eye.
Does she dare ask?
Who decides where the plunge into the darkness will take place-
Who measures the when and how long of Robert’s wild dance-
Does she dare?
In the new Millenia:
Cemetery plots expertly cloned, raised higher than in times past,
no more sprawling acreage; land in Key West is tight!
And still, Robert “lives” on.
He calls to them as well as the living.
Again, does she dare ask?
Let’s roll the bones to find out.
She tips her hand, she should never have lent voice
to the name Robert The Doll even in these modern times.
For even now, the insane ones spill into the street,
lost boys and girls chewing up the scenery
with their mad eyes after Robert’s introduction.
That lion in his lap, the sentry of this oddity
wearing the cursed cloth, reminds her:
Didn’t Robert once roam the halls of The Artist’s House alone?
Well, didn’t he?