lost world

By Arlene Ang

blue-bottle wolves howl like sirens
awaiting the sacrifice of sailors

the witching moon twists
cratered face swarming with fauns

armless--she waves a wand
radiant God seeking to join Her secret lovers

the voluminous sky turns serpent
undulating behind plumes of ostrich clouds

citylights blink their last, succumb
to lotus sleep and fade in the mist

blue-bottle wolves dance around bonfires
in an old sorcerer's terpsichorean dream