ElephantStone (Ozzy Croft)

About me: About me rest amethyst cactii

growing in the charred caverns, shunning themselves.

in the ashen soil their glittered roots

grope where we find wing bones of blessed eagles woven

in tungsten

shattered by Time's leaden arrows,

forgotten, like Nigel Mansell.

Feeble freight trains flicker for indefinite flashes

that string themselves out like solar arms, like

seaweed drying souls rising

creating indignant spirits, strong liqueurs for Indonesian

pirates who smuggle tigers, held in nets,

transformed, by voodoo into puppets

and shipped smiling toothlessly.

This catastrophe circle comes fully fledged,

foreknown, like the prophesies of the mute fire priest of the opera rooms.