Voyage to Strange  

Latitudes

In the strange latitudes
of that hemisphere
animals wear shifting eyes
wind blows a hollow song
through aeolian strings
set on a razor's edge.

                    There
the newborn adorn
dark furniture like a
ship captain's parlour
displaying mementos
of exotic voyages;
mewling objets d'art.

                   and
love is played at feelingly,
coequals plucking sole eyes
doing the rounds
in comradely fashion
so all can see through
future's mists.

                       There
mountains blossom
bright thorn flowers;
earth opens welcome
chasms for escape from
terrifying sameness.

In that country
trespassers are welcomed
in boiling cauldrons
spitting primal brew
                    and
heat brings saline dew
to unsuspecting brows.