No Hands, No Feet, No Service
In the bargain bins you will find
unoriginal sin
limit one per damned soul
except on Sundays.
Crawl this way to the elevators, please.

Follow the trail of hands and feet
internal combustion doesn’t need them.

These beds won’t burn
Rubens couldn’t set them on fire
and here’s the gate to the arena:

Lear’s limericks have brought down the Snark
but the emperor, a skull in a porkpie hat, has no thumbs.

A man in a winged helmet will sear your flesh
to make sure you are not dead
and a bird-man will strike your head with his mallet
claiming you for Pluto,
it’s all part of the show.

You’ll be dragged with hooks through the bloody sand; 
exit this way: the Porta Libitinaria,
where the dead leave behind the next spectacle.

That’s the end of our tour,
now face each hour and the hour that looks back
makes a mirror for your ticket home.
"Take what you need and leave the rest"
Oi I'm too dumb for all the references but I caught some--can't tell if we're in Dante's Inferno or just regular life (is there a difference?). But then you've got King Lear and Rubens (who I love!) so, I mean, I read it more than once and gathered very little besides maybe the narrator is taking a tour of hell? Church? Hades?

I really do like the last three lines fwiw
I'll be there in a minute.
Thanks for the read and reaction.  It's mostly about the Roman arena, but I added a nightmare gift shop, e.g. Enter through the Gift Shop.  But yeah, it's about life, at least the underbelly of my mental life these days.
"Take what you need and leave the rest"

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