Hammers beat time on tin roof churches, a heart flutters. Thick moths murmur round paper flowers and neon bulbs, the blooming hot earth crawls fetid. The sun arcs lava-crust down volcano slopes and sinks, the jungle wakes; a million whispers under every leaf. The sea bubbles over mangrove flats, trickles over branches, rots slick till wood snaps and scares the pig on the beach who squeals and runs. Everywhere, everything is hog panic.
Indonesia
Tired and blotched he slows and shuffles, snorting and squinting, full of hot fear. Foot stung, bitten ear, the pitter patter of thorns and teeth. Cockroach, sea snake, mosquito, leech. Black spiders squatting huge on rope thrones, glued skeletons hanging.
Bang. Bang, bang. Hush and shiver. The loud silence screams. Under the surface creatures loom phosphorescent. Oily skin, black pupils, cold viscera. Slow wings glide, fins slice, the splish splash of frightened fish flying. Too late, mantas sting and ocean bats feed, heavy mouthed sea-moths, eating and watching the thing that watches from the deep, a periscope hunger that focuses on the pig on the beach sweating. >> >>Squeal and screech. Pig runs panting from the sea, into the waiting canopy. Snicker, flicker. Lizard mouths lick, yawn, salivate and draw daggers, snapping at flies. The roar of fossil dinosaur. Hiss and rip, catch and slip. The tearing of flesh tastes beatific. The slaughter of misguided missions under tin-roof churches.
‘Yes’ says the dye-cast, leathered old crone, teeth a circle of standing stones. Red-blood, betel-nut lips cackle wetly under thatch, ‘Not the first, not the last.’ Falling is sinking in a swamp, not the sea, pigs tied under bamboo sticks know this. ‘See?’ >> >>Chuckle, cough, cackle. >>Cough cough. >>Hiss. >> >>Chuckle, cough, cackle. >>Cough, cough. >> >>Cough, cough.
>>Hiss.
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