Volcano

Quite often unrecognized

as poetry, your scribbles

embrace the world

oblivious of the stale tenets

of prosody you must

write on,

draw from the most

ancient of wells,

draw on and on till

the water shows brown,

brown of dregs,

brown of sediment,

brown of the blood

coagulating in

the lab-bound syringes.

Continents pull up their

drawbridges, they do not

expect a ruler or even

political dignitaries to pass.

They wait for you to enter,

bare feet falling, lighter

than a yellow leaf’s falling

in the autumn breeze,

your breath faintly fluttering

like moth wings among the bloom,

you serve honey disguised

as some kind of lethal poison

its effect takes a long while

to show. Truth has a slow,

delayed reaction. It is

the distant rumble

of a fevered volcano.