K. Andrew Turner: “Monsters”

Monsters

for the art Jimi Hendrix by Moëbius

Orange clouds, like mountains, burn

under the weight of the falling sun,

two rocks jut from the green ocean

where sharks swarm

I watch a pelican as large 

as a pterodactyl fly the sage home

A man wears

a robe, the symbol

of his power

his face broad, dark

his eyes free to bore

to memorize

his hands a vise

around the woman,

green from the ocean

she is out cold

Beams of black 

form a halo of darkness

his intent unknown

but I fear 

for the woman

at the hands of a man

so enthralled

by her architecture. I cannot help

but think that she

is the victim

that she is not the monster

we are told she is

no, she tries to protect

herself

her ocean so green

perhaps it is dying

she may be the last

the only

and this man is the one to take

her, to take the ocean

to set mountains ablaze

perhaps the sage

and his pelican-dactyl

stay away from the world

soaring above to remain

untouched and unsullied

by mundane concerns

perhaps the man is the monster

or the sage

or the monster is inside

ready to take

when presented with such

succulent

verdant beauty

About the Author: K. Andrew Turner writes queer, literary, and speculative prose and poetry. In 2013, he founded East Jasmine Review—an electronic literary journal. He was a semifinalist for the 2016 Luminaire Award. Heart, Mind, Blood, Skin is now available from Finishing Line Press. Read more at: http://www.kandrewturner.com