David Jalajel

Volcán de Fuego

You can walk to the top of a higher volcano,
Mexico’s so-called fire volcano.

From a wonderful literary terrace, you can
Easily regard the admired volcano

And return to a D-day where warriors ruled
An ayate-and-ruby attired volcano.

Varied in texture, hue and sheen –
From base to summit, it’s an inspired volcano.

For a digital fantasy cinema movie,
You’ll need franchising rights to the entire volcano –

And to all its surrounds, so your dragons can languish
in the core of this blackrock spired volcano.

Here darkness and hellfire in fury blast forth
From this purebred Tarascan-sired volcano.

In these verdant and unexplored forests and valleys,
It could easily be the chief’s pyre volcano

That artists, with sweetrock volcanic oils,
Might paint: as a Levantine briar volcano –

Or as the dawn sun touching on eastern New Zealand’s
Long extinct tweed shire volcano –

Or as a sunset beach, looking up from Kihei
To the light of an evening’s expired volcano –

Or as khaki spring water, gushing out through the sulphur,
Since Bok-ke’s a smallish mired volcano.

Yes, upon our arrival in La Fortuna we were
Aliens ascending a now-tired volcano:

A bitchy secretary and a posthumous chorus
For their live-cam event at their hired volcano.

Brief Bio:
David Jalajel is the author of Moon Ghazals (Beard of Bees Press, 2009), Cthulhu on Lesbos (Ahadada Books, 2011) -- which is book-length poem in Sapphic stanzas -- and a chapbook in Dan Waber’s This is Visual Poetry series (2013). His work has appeared in a number of online and print journals, including Otoliths, Shampoo, experiential-experimental-literature, Recursive Angel, The New Post-Literate, and Gulf Coast. Poems in the “qasida” series have appeared in The Ghazal Page, Anti-, Lynx, Mizna, and Eclectica.