I looked across a liquid sky and there at a glance I sank into accumulated stench of centuries of cash flow
The signal came from the beacon situated across the bay
The time of sidereal aspirations and heaped concentrated focus was to begin
Attack lanes were open, I bundled up nervously for the crossing
The Holy Cross, the Iron Cross, the Criss Cross, the double Cross, all the Crosses where there
Awaiting in Apian transfiguration
The spirit ghost wore a green aspic transplant in his heart cavity
Attendants rowed barges of success to a distant shore
Sirens hissed in diluvian unison
Electric current pushed my blood forward threw my tunneled corpse
Hollow visions glided past me at break neck speed
The Pope chain smoked three continents during his coffee break
Shields of various clans rattled in the wind
in the distance nervous steeds flared and whined beneath armoured heads
Lance men had their last cigarettes
A poet from the opposing camp proposed the reading of a newly penned durge
Moments into the second stanza a fireball halted his pathetic utterances
The sun left the field to take cover behind some shallow hills
The wind circled all the amassed and held us in a concentrated focus
Everyone faced forward
The earth shifted and tossed beneath our feet as if nervous in anticipation
Grinding rock revealed a whirlpool to the centre lines of defense
The circle widened until the first line of both camps slid into the moist abyss
The second line lost their footing unable to retreat because the wind kept them from turning away
The roar of fire towered out of the earth and eliminated cries of opposition
Torrential rain mixed with earth and flesh washed all traces of conquest into this cavity prepared for men
The sun returned and lit the valley
The wind subsided and vanished
Meal time on the planet that makes it’s own gravy always came unannounced
Another battle to be forged by myths and tales forgotten
© napoleon brousseau 1978 NaPoWriMo day 30
Napo B "Live" 