Three Distorted Visions

by Ian Hunter

Something Down the Dark Alley Looks Like Elvis

Elvis glides towards you
Stick thin, white suit, white shirt, bowtie
His hair is greasily styled
rising above his forehead in a black wave
ready to collapse

His eyes are hooded

Lights flicker, sight wavers

Elvis is closer this time
Casually dressed
no suit, no bow tie
Fuller of face, hair longer
There is something on his lips
something like a smile
a sneer, a hunger

His eyes are hooded

Lights flicker, sight wavers

Elvis is closer still, grinning
wearing a dark velvet jacket
flared trousers,
white scarf around his neck
His grin grows wider
it carries no humour within it

His eyes are hooded

Lights flicker, sight wavers

Elvis is far too close now
Bloated
Face grey
Skin slick with sweat
His white, stained jumpsuit
strains to hold back
bulging rolls of fat.

His eyes might be hooded

If he had any

He reaches for you

Ghosts from a Christmas Carol

The three prints on the wall
must be out of order, you think
Mind struggling to recall that classic tale
The first one shows the Ghost of Christmas Present
brimming with joy, life, the moment
The middle one captures Scrooge huddling
next to a meagre fire
startled by the ghost of Marley
The final print depicts Scrooge cowering
before a gravestone bearing his name
face hidden behind trembling hands
It is a scene shrouded in darkness
save for the pointing hand
Yes, a hand, not a skull, you finally realise
A hand pointing downwards
which moves, finger pointing at you,
Bending to invite you to come closer

Later, in your hotel room
you will hide your face too

When We Were Dressed As A Pantomime Horse

And the stick things dressed in black
Came closer
All elbows and angles
Round faces pale as ghosts
Round mouths lined with little sharp teeth
Round eyes big as saucers
Cocking their heads from side to side
Sharp hands reaching out, but never touching
While I held my breath
And you whimpered, just once
and I thought it would be the end of us