October 19, 2011
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Whirling flames spit like livid chameleons
Hunks of heat-baked earth tumble like leaden angels
From a velvet pincushion sky
But only for a dream

An anchor sinks like a cement breakfast
Through swirling currents of ink
Eye-faced fish watch dispassionately as it vanishes
Thudding softly into the deep murk below

A glistening tower of ivory jumps downwards
Collapsing in segments like an old man’s leg
Juddering downwards into the marsh
That belches eagerly the foulest of fumes

Expectations flash like fired powder
Red ink a poison to the eyes and brain
Its sinister atoms wending their ways evilly
Through the heart and mind.

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