The Crossroads

a place where ghosts

reside to whisper into

the ears of travellers &

interest them in their fate


Hitchhiker drinks:

"I call again on the dark

hidden gods of blood"


-Why do you call us?

You know our price. It

never changes. Death of

you will give you life

& free you from a vile

fate. But it is getting late.


-If I could see you again

& talk w/ you, & walk a

short while in your company,

& drink the heady brew

of your conversations,

I thought


-to rescue a soul already

ruined. To achieve respite.

To plunder green gold

on a pirate raid & bring

to camp the glory of old.


-As the capesman faces

poisoned horns & drinks

red victory; the soldier,

too, w/ his trophy, a

pierced helmet; & the

ledge-walker shuddering

his way into inward grace


-(laughter) Well, then. Would

you mock yourself?




-Soon our voices must become

one, or one must leave.