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Battersea Park*


There is a captive in Battersea
Who lies behind double doors.
His body is that of flames that seeth,
With a voice of a giants’ roar.

They tell me that he’s only a fire
Fanned with a storm of air,
But I’ve seen too many fires
To mistake it with the fury’s lair.

Heavy swings open the outer door
And then the inner one.
Heated light leaps from the flaming core
And the earth has a second sun.

Power speaks of infinity
With the searing blaze of death.
So the sting becomes electricity
To whisper in a park…
And rest.




*some years ago there was a small US army unit stationed in Bushey Park and they burned their (classified) trash in Battersea Park.