Jungle of Antlers and Thunder
movement below brow bones
this modern man has a brow thin
as broken trilobite shells.
it came from millennia carving
the heavy meat at the meeting
of both eyebrows,
under which early man
quivered in his eye sockets.
the ancestral trembling lingers
in bristle lidded shifting eyes that
wait and
wailing, fear
a lightning storm on Christmas Eve
for its tripping ragtime
origins of brontosaurs
the jungle became a body
its tail was a bullwhip
it could crack like a cannon
a ragged rhythm of hoof beats
the reindeer trip time
on the roof, under the roof
this modern man huddles
on the ground, at the click
of toenails on tile.
he waits for a crunch of plaster
a crash of water,
a foot, a lizard
hoof to enter
the room of prickling woodsmoke.
