pitier and pitier

I badly need to eat
more greens, 
or maybe I need to
get more sleep, or
maybe my eyes
will degenerate
to the point
I longer see
mirrors weep 

For pity's sake. 

I have always said 
that pity is mercy 
that has no power 
to spare. 

And I think that's a
pretty apt sense! Except 
that it seems I no longer
care. 
         Oh,

"Who cares, dares" I know.
Hogwash. Fiddlesticks.
Dumbbell cellar doors
doorbells broomsticks 
bedknobs and awards - 

Take so many wands!
Bundle up, bind them all.
Put spells on, toss bon mots
now we know this too-long
autumn is spoiling for fall.  

Time for bonfires! Sorcery,
horsery piling on
to on high, let
chivalrous
wizards
catch hell 
and die, all wrong 
by dint of main strength, 
puissance plus wisdom 
dexterity spent.  

Magical realists as well: 
yes. You. 

Let us have us a pyre,
with tunes to dance, too.
Set the light and smoke
mystery show between us
and dance, 'til the flame
turns blue as around we go, 
until our last breaths - no.
Save two.

Just in case we each
think of one last word.  
So concise. Lock eyes,
let beelines be,  

and dive in 
one time: on
a count of three. To see
who burns first, 
and who

in this merriest hell 
were we.