Faunas: Imaginary Poem by Kevin Patrick

The Phoenixes' builds its nests in the shape of funeral pyres
It only nurtures ashes, razed from its own extinction
Centaurides cradle infants like stacks of books from libraries
They never drop their mothers guard from clandestine predation


Selkies shed their bodies so they may commune with the sea
Their comfortable with changed skins wherever they may roam
and gold horns grow the finest coats, west of Afghanistan
It bleads a trail of flowers in all directions it calls home


And the Kraken chokes on garbage underneath the plastic oceans
The Sasquatch's been evicted by the plagues of paper mills
Coalmines in Virginia have made the moth man contract cancer
And all the superhighways have turned the jersey devil into road kill

But there's no fauna for me, or some designed masterplan
Because these are just the words of an imaginary man