Tornadoes of tumbled hair
slipping over the taut skin
of pressured daylight;
icebergs spiked by tin towns
split flags opening like broken paws
on the drift of throttled voices.

The prow of a living island
zooms through birches,
diseased maples, canoes of charcoal,
lips burned by the moon
forced through an acid-fueled
radio, relentless surge
of blood-darkened water.

Wild felines clinging to busted
stalks, eyes lit by dials of
a criminal laundry, blades of bone
framed in soaked fur, snaggle-toothed
by unsated longing, crying with the tones
of those who mate with hammered synthesis
of daffodil and rose.