In the canton of Graubünden, the black suits came to play. Some flew in on red carpets. Others rode in on black carriages that made a big racket. The select few in jets counted their aces to distract the chains on the passengers’ faces.
But the landing destroys all good graces. The check-in had marked the start of their say.
So, they walked into sandboxes and all sorts of dens. Their Zen was on fences and supervised lenses. The say so with stares. Questions that led to more questions without any ticket admission. A lot of yip-yap for the get-that. On each corner, guards held onto steel, reading the crowds to spot a lack of appeal.
Amongst the madness passed a magician. His lantern sprinkled more light on all their bad wishes. The rays fled into the kitchen to expose the souls on commission.
The society that snaps a picture for magazines and reachers.
Real deals and meals are held underground. The echoes go missing amongst the odd teachings.
A big banquet dessert in a marbled mess hall. Servers and serfs set Swiss cheese pie on God sides. One piece to the kisser and the fake them went cuckoo.
Animals within shifted and morphed. Crocodile scales and cow spots galore. Long claws with clown feet. Multiple sets of eyes and too many fingers to keep. Their true planets and real faces caused quite a stink.
The magician's grand finale left them without their switches. He lifted a red button into the air and said, “This will make you listen.”
Through giant arched windows, the zoo could see well into the distance. The clouds turned fiery and glistened. It was time for a spiritual reset.
