A Name Gnaws at Him
// Jeff Encke
vast scented arrays the deadly elegance of power
rambling, the city’s many seers
at the gates
temples to the ferocious
caravans shake the certainties
a crisis is approaching
changed by the dream
the senna leaves
biting coins
with knowing teeth
pilgrims sit on their hands
every so often
their eyes leave
built in rough circles
factions of shark scents
black tents in charge of belly dancers
dappled camels