Pheasant

As I walked down the hillside
I became enraptured
By the pheasants in the distance
Making up the landscape
Obsessively circling an oak tree
Wings flapping silently
Never coming down

Round and around

Making my way
To the centre of the ritual
I saw a fissure in the oak tree
Bursting with mushrooms
Of which one was crowned king
Coronated in colours
Of violet and brown

Round and around

Coming back
To at the centre of the earth
I passed right through
Myself and back into town
To see my wife suspended in birth
Lamina slipping dripping
Down on the ground

Round and around

Suddenly she's falling
Through my arms
Like ashes spewing
Out from the hearth
And I'm back by that fire
Burning desire
Eating mushrooms of yellow
Violent and brown

Round and around

Metal birds birthing metal eggs
That burst on the rooftops
Of Babel's head
Spewing brimstone and fire
Burning and bile
Babies melt from their mothers
And into the ground

I came across a deer
With the face of a man
He stopped me in my tracks
And he bade me sit down
Smiling he spoke anointed
You are the one
Broke me upon his horns
And they were my crown