Topographic, with few roads
and dramatic contours free of billboards,
sugar mills, progress and poverty.
At the centre two volcanoes.
Cracks and craters on the coast, coves
anchored offshore, ancient temples
flying shadows above.
The mapmaker translates paved trails
into prophecy, a warning in red –
subject to slide and fissure.
Waterfalls, sea arches, sand beaches,
soft borders fade in from blue.
The pulp islands fan open,
a reconstructed world.
~ Elosham Vog
Following a transient childhood, Elosham came of age in the surreal spaces of the American midwest and west coast. He currently lives and writes in England. His interests include Russian formalism, fine whisky, and the anthropological sciences. He is currently finishing his first collection, ‘Volcano’, of which these poems are a part.