KA Rees #64 - Charnel Ground

Charnel Ground

The politician sings and stomps his feet, waves a fist

of stolen emu feathers in an approximation to what he’s seen

on film, doesn’t understand this dance — any open handed

gesture (of his ringed fingers) will do. These grounds once

curated, kept knowingly, now thousands of kilometres of ashen trees, bodies

of koalas wrapped blackly around trunks spearing sky with their leafless silhouettes.

The politician practices his coal dance turning the granulated chunk,

catching his smirk across its inked surface, watches as bodies

and entire towns are brought to the charnel ground.