XVI

Come, take my hand

and stand with me on the edge

of the apocalypse

Put on your red shoes

and jive with me

in tribute to our fallen Duke of Brixton

Listen to the doves as they

cry a lament

for our purple Paisley Park demi-god

Fall down on your knees and

pray with me for

the lives of the brothers and sisters we lost

through the hands of the hate of others

Dance with me on the edge

of the hell fire

of the blood-red dawn spawning of an uncertain dawn

Revel in the masochism

of the simple act of logging in and facing where we are

Dancing with the devil

twenty-four-seven

regardless of the presence of a pale moonlight

Come, take my hand

and stand with me on the edge

This is not the end

although it might feel like the Grand Finale

This is not the end