Midway through life's journey,
K. awoke to find herself in a dark wood
under a large sign--
***WELCOME TO THE DIVINE COMEDY! ***
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE!
-I can play this, K. said to herself,
I've read Dante's book,
and promptly typed the letters:
S.O.S. S.E.N.D. V.I.R.G.I.L.
into a space provided,
then waited . . .
and waited . . .
-They are supposed to send a Guide,
she thought, perplexed.
-One is not to tour the Infernal Realms alone.
-Oh, Virgil! . . .
(Not Virgil. . . .)
-Virgil?. . .
(Wrong Virgil. . . .)
'Round and 'round she ran,
in ever-decreasing circles,
spiraling inwards,
Down,
Down,
to the
frozen
core,
where she
grappled Evil
to reach clear air
at the base of a mountain--Purgatorio.
'Round and 'round
she climbed, spiraling upwards,
spiraling inwards. Some Capital Letters
were removed from her forehead and chest. . .
but others were added.
She learned to push the reverse button
QUICKLY
when Paths became Deadends
filled with Nasties and Despair.
Exhausted, she found herself at last
back where she started
and collapsed in a shapeless heap
onto the spongy forest floor
sodden with unwept tears.
Mysteriously, this activated the Game's green GO-light.
A neon Message lit the sign-board:
"Congratulations!
You have Mastered your First Lesson!
At this level of Game,
NO Guides, Gurus or Virgils are provided.
Cheat Codes do not work.
Cultic Shortcuts kick you up
through Heaven's Gate
swooshing after Hale Bop in Nikes,
out of the Game.
Well-trodden Religious Paths
never get off the ground and bring you
back to this Starting Place.
You have earned Mega Experience Points.
Proceed to the Next Level."
A Door opened
in a building marked 'Kuykendall.'
In a refrigerated room
Virgils-in-training--
Old Souls and Young Fire--
Defined their Selves,
Polished their Poetry.
Beyond the 'Kuykendall' box-building
lay a Labyrinth, and a Courtyard named 'Pono,'
open to warm air and a sea of oceanic breezes
like the Greek and Roman Academies of Old.
Under the shade of spreading tree branches
Poets read aloud.
K. cheered, thankful for new options:
-Drop-kick me, Game Master, through the goal posts of life!
The message board--soft colors now-- gentled her:
We walk into the songs
we sing for each other.
The system amplifies. . .
adds harmonics.
Retune.
Softly
now.
Paradise is a new way to play the game.
K. awoke to find herself in a dark wood
under a large sign--
***WELCOME TO THE DIVINE COMEDY! ***
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE!
-I can play this, K. said to herself,
I've read Dante's book,
and promptly typed the letters:
S.O.S. S.E.N.D. V.I.R.G.I.L.
into a space provided,
then waited . . .
and waited . . .
-They are supposed to send a Guide,
she thought, perplexed.
-One is not to tour the Infernal Realms alone.
-Oh, Virgil! . . .
(Not Virgil. . . .)
-Virgil?. . .
(Wrong Virgil. . . .)
'Round and 'round she ran,
in ever-decreasing circles,
spiraling inwards,
Down,
Down,
to the
frozen
core,
where she
grappled Evil
to reach clear air
at the base of a mountain--Purgatorio.
'Round and 'round
she climbed, spiraling upwards,
spiraling inwards. Some Capital Letters
were removed from her forehead and chest. . .
but others were added.
She learned to push the reverse button
QUICKLY
when Paths became Deadends
filled with Nasties and Despair.
Exhausted, she found herself at last
back where she started
and collapsed in a shapeless heap
onto the spongy forest floor
sodden with unwept tears.
Mysteriously, this activated the Game's green GO-light.
A neon Message lit the sign-board:
"Congratulations!
You have Mastered your First Lesson!
At this level of Game,
NO Guides, Gurus or Virgils are provided.
Cheat Codes do not work.
Cultic Shortcuts kick you up
through Heaven's Gate
swooshing after Hale Bop in Nikes,
out of the Game.
Well-trodden Religious Paths
never get off the ground and bring you
back to this Starting Place.
You have earned Mega Experience Points.
Proceed to the Next Level."
A Door opened
in a building marked 'Kuykendall.'
In a refrigerated room
Virgils-in-training--
Old Souls and Young Fire--
Defined their Selves,
Polished their Poetry.
Beyond the 'Kuykendall' box-building
lay a Labyrinth, and a Courtyard named 'Pono,'
open to warm air and a sea of oceanic breezes
like the Greek and Roman Academies of Old.
Under the shade of spreading tree branches
Poets read aloud.
K. cheered, thankful for new options:
-Drop-kick me, Game Master, through the goal posts of life!
The message board--soft colors now-- gentled her:
We walk into the songs
we sing for each other.
The system amplifies. . .
adds harmonics.
Retune.
Softly
now.
Paradise is a new way to play the game.
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