The Witch of Uluru

On arid seas near Uluru,
Beneath a blazing midnight sun,
A witch and her didgeridoo
Raise swarming fleets of scorpion.

A fire as cold as hell itself
She lights with breath of twilight dew
And weaves upon the desert’s shelf
A dreary dream of crystal hue.

Like Nanites in supernal space,
Young scorpions dive into the flames;
A lash, and moisture from her face,
In drops they swirl, as she exclaims,

Apu puli wiya kanku
Kutju Tjitji wiru Tjitji
Tarka kata kapi Waru
kutju Tjitji wiru Tjitji !

From clouds of smoke and spectral lines
Appears in twists and glowing twirls
A girl, as a thousand anodynes,
With skin of bronze and eyes like pearls.

The witch, ecstatic, jigs a jig,
But lightning bolts transmute the child
Into an arachnid so big
It swills the witch there, in the wild.

The drones of her didgeridoo
And echoes of her haunting chants
Imbue the hum of Uluru,
Where witches’ souls sashay and prance.