The Head of the Organization

Mysterious organ music
was playing in the halls

I was looking for Serge
The head of the organization
Who once told me all fires
Start far away
And are carried over time
By red sandstorms
Out of ordinary looking mouths

I once caught some in the eyes
And had to wash my face
Four times a day
Until I developed a rash
And they took me to the labs
In the leaning glass building
Elizabeth Taylor’s dermatologist
Worked on me for two days

That was before
Before they gave me a mask
One for every day of the week
To wear for the foreign ministers

I was being promoted
And eyed by two men
Both the same smooth face
Manufactured by Serge
Picked by his Hollywood producers
All goons are plainly pretty

I received a lipstick
One end was the knife
Only for play it seemed
A joke dismissal
The other a note
From the viola player informant
Who only ever meets me
In the tea cup ride

Leaving, I spied in a corridor
A dark woman
Glowing under a ceiling trap window
A nose too big
A mouth too small
She was playing the organ
Her foot tapping to my heart beat


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