What's in Fashion in the Middle of the Fire

 

swimming pools filled by trunkless elephants
plastic plates cleared of crumbs of witches
dead eyes soldered to stapled bellies

following a memorized sun
in plush toy boats
shaded with logos veneers as anchors

every smile is the smear of a dead wingspan
every petal now smelt on the emperor's robe
where is the kind and how is the encore?