Jungle of Antlers and Thunder

Jungle of Antlers and Thunder

the meeting of both eyebrows at the bridge of the nose
this modern has
dog eyes, not the wolf's eyes
ridged in teeth but
wet wide domes
bristle lids, black ringed
sad little curves that
wait and
wailing, fear
a lightning storm on Christmas Eve
for its tripping ragtime

origins of brontosaurs
bromeliads' slapped faces,
piss hot rain,
blistering liverwort and fern,
cycads and gum palms,
kidney grass, leaf curls,
mildew freckles and wax myrtles.
this jungle is a body
its tail is a bullwhip
it can crack like a cannon

a ragged rhythm of hoofbeats
the reindeer trip time
on the roof, under the roof
this modern huddles
at the ground that
shrinks, the click
of toenails on tile.
he waits for a crunch of plaster
a crash of water,
a foot to enter
into the prickling woodsmoke.