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Carnival And Lent
By Paul Cameron Brown
Jungle, the cave
human reservoir & cistern ... .
quagmire and bog, but no alpine meadow,
fairest glance of goodness in
soiled wildflower under winter snows.
Pebbles into a cesspool,
our sometime passions alive
in the outback where honey-fuelled
ants soothe enemy bones.
My blood, tempest-whipped,
ardour drawn to the surface
fathom marks the depths
sees a spectacle on the roads
queues/Carnival & Lent,
unbridled raw and raging.
Jesus would have nails.
Poison darts,
liana and mangrove sounds
with footsteps in the distance
the blow-gun or bolo knife
attache case / cellular phone ...
"I'll kick your teeth down
your throat, professionally
speaking." Nine to five fecal
beings perform the toilet-bowl flush.
Tsetse fly with design -
sapient, sand paper rough
along the edge, dry rot to the core.
Plague rats cluster in a feeding
frenzy sampling tidbits.
Swirl of the bull fight,
colour and scope, only
its a supermarket, freeway.
Wide angle, wild angel,
Umbrage of the uppercut.
Tough-mindedness, singleness
of purpose, the glacial speed of
fairness along the sorted, sordid
circles of Spitsbergen.
Our species' jailbait reason
firing up the flashlight in the dark
for a circumspect peek in the woods sleeping.
Tell me your adventures in living.
Another hour spent
strangling a reindeer
on the taiga, boreally-speaking.
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