The Spectre Undone

A slightly controversial poem I wrote on 6 March 1996; it speaks for itself.

The Pope rolled a cigarette as he stared at the magazine
Gazing lustily at the spectacle, he sighed.
In the dim recesses of his mind a hobbling leper cried "Unclean".
Somewhere behind him, a sinister figure
there - but not there -
Rubbed its hands together and cackled gleefully,
NEXT!

The editor of that same magazine lounged in his condo
Surrounded by glitter and gloss, discontent.
His entire conciousness resting on one leather-bound book.
Not one of his works - far superior.
he opened it - he read it
A light blazed, the sinister figure screamed, Heaven shouted
NEXT!