The Goat and Brian Jones
An Incident in October 1968
The satyr Stone, alone, watched
under the terracotta Moroccan sky
as they led the goat to sacrifice
in the ominous Atlas Mountain shade.
Hashish mirage of his sickened senses,
the djinn gathered in his mind,
ready for the kill.
But rather than give into to cruelty,
which was his usual way,
he recognised suddenly the foreshadow,
a kinship with the bleating kid,
its fate to die dramatically
for eyes wanting only death
as a performance.
Lost eyes and feminine lashes
beseeching without avail.
Strangely still in the fierce sun it died
with a srangled human call.
'That's me,' Brian said softly
to his laughing friends.