The multi hued dawn,
is as sensuous as a divine kimono.
Crepe Myrtle blooms dance in the breeze,
like care free children.
The olfactory bliss of Lemon Myrtle
is marred by diesel fumes.
The forest beckons.
Serenity shatters like a glass cathedral,
in the path of a choir boys vengeance.
Punk parrots die of fright mid flight.
Their shadows scream
like throat cancer afflicted banshees.
In a hilltop clearing,
hooded figures move as one.
Gravity is their slave,
their synchronicity as unnerving
as the taxidermied hybrids,
hanging from the Olive grove.
They traverse treacherous terrain
more fluently than a waterfall.
As slowly as a fish suffocating on a jetty,
they pivot in my direction;
their faces turn faster than their heads.
My limb hair is as upright
as the star picket I’ve torn from the Earth.
Their frog like mouths curl into leering grins,
as I meet their black hole like gaze.
They close the distance
as gradually as grains shifting in an hourglass.
Midnight has come from nowhere.
The star picket has been twisted
into the infinity symbol
and embedded in the trunk of an Angophora.
This poem was inspired by the Monsters Among Us Podcast. http://www.monstersamonguspodcast.com/