Lost in the rocks
Time shifts slow
creeking as it turns
the Earth into custard
the ground melts under
the stress and spread
of the fires in his hearth
the laughing prince
casts a glance over
the crowd as the
lava renders then mineral
the altering of form
so rapidly expressions are
burned into the surrounding
ground the tension kept it up
like a bridge the discovery
of which supported
the ridges of existence
but stirred and served
like a mace laden hiss
in the face of it
like a place there was no exit
opened caverns in the raining
volcanic verbs that felt like rocks
and nouns that knocked heads
and then the searchlights
and the flights
and the finding of a surviving thread
nobody is alive in the red
Nicholas Alexander's Poetry