Theofani Poem by Chris Zachariou

Theofani, wrecked in the scent
of Mary Jane, pirouettes late into the
night on the bridge of the village river.

She shudders in its whirling waters
in the arms of elfish naiads and has
the taste of sullied apples on her lips
picked from the sour bishop's garden.

‘Eat child', chirps a playful goblin
with translucent crimson wings
hiding in a pot of perfumed basil.
A frenzied night muddies the river's
waters and in the morning the town's
envious virgins scorn her.

Touched by the goblin's madness,
they gallop bareback to the ruined Basilica
on the Pasha's foaming mule.

The demon gods return victorious
marching proudly into the wasted temple.
‘Where are the new Olympians? '
she asks in awe of her ungodly lover.

Theofani drifts into the maroon horizon
craving the breath of a scarlet day
and the goblin digs his nails into her spine
until she howls with pain and pleasure.