The Swing

Perhaps it’s only in my mind's creation

That the world has made a few too many rotations

If in one eye the globe looks all too small

It’s because the other eye cannot see at all

And if I could only see the truth

I would not be standing upon the hanging booth

But as the noose is pulled tight in place

And the black bag is used to cover my face

The crowd chants and applause the act

As I calmly await the floor to snap

And the preacher man says his final lines

And tells me in the afterlife I’ll burn fine

Under the mask I loose sense of sight

But in the darkness feel one last fight

The preacher asked if I had any last requests

I muttered in a low voice, there’s not time to rest

 

They cut the rope and there I fell

And I felt my self sucked down towards hell

But a burst of light entered the mask

And I suddenly felt up to the task

For I struggled hard against the chain

And this Austrian voice entered my brain

"You can do it" he did say

So I gnawed at the rope until it did fray

And I kept on chewing until it broke

And the crowd kept chanting, "We want to see him choke"

But I kept on chomping until it snapped

And as I hit the ground I tore off the mask

My face turned red and I fiercely cried

While the chant of crowd slowly died

And I yelled "is this how you want me"

And they replied, "Yes", and the bastards shot me!

Jason Cholewa, Ph.D.