Snarling, roaring through the night
a cold whistling lunge through hissing winds
by slipstream mastodons, tail to tail
urgent with need to regurgitate
from belly's bloated with loaves and fishes
their ministering matouts to pile at your feet
gnarled hands carved and calloused
gentle faces smiling for the small animals
feeding on trust from their careful scattered meals
and millions look upon roughened faces
but no invitation comes to share salt
no offer of welcome at your table
untouchables, scoring words in stone mountains
watch birds feed from polished metal skin
gobbling up greedy fat insects
light attracted, their heedless flight whips them
split and crushed, to be served ready
from the nutcrackers whirling with curves
careful spore carved and pressed
pug marks, ancient in the dust of centuries
futuristic fossils moulded in emptied mud puddles
where no more lava breeds to suck your blood
until peace rumbles from resting mastodons
still surging and fuming in sleep
deb 14th january Y2K ...
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