click the tongue and train the ears to echo locate Drifters drifting hither and thither,
meanwhile
And the prophet did bring coal into the temple
“How good is that?” he cried,
‘tis the favourite food for Puff the Marahini’s magic dragon that she keeps securely in her boiler house.
The dragon’s appetite did grow and as the dragon did grow , so trucks, trains and conveyor belts did grow to feed the magic dragon.
But Spark the spawn of the dragon escaped the boiler house and became Ember who flew across the land seeking ever more dragon food.
And Ember did as the lord of the prophet commanded and went forth and multiplied, was fruitful and populated the earth abundantly.
The fruit of the dragon swelled to a torrent, a roaring, thunderous torrent, that crowned the trees and sacrificed, tree, plain, shed, machine and life itself to its insatiable hunger.
The sky did darken,
the sun did dim,
the wind did roar
and smoke did smote the landscape.
Then all was silence, black stump, white ash and silence.
Silent with the stench of life exhausted,
Charred, tortured feather, claw and paw stark against the white ash.
And the silence was broken by steel shod boot wreathed by ash
toes speckled with tear drops.
And the prophet came forth from the temple scattering a billion or two
“How good is that?”
And the prophet did bring coal into the temple