|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
looking around
I see people with pointed lizard scales growing down their backs. I see sharpened lizard tongues flicking at one another as they are snarling. Hiss-hissing as they speak without awareness. I see people snatching food off of others' plates. Not stopping to consider the use of forks knives or napkin. I see puny narrowing lizard eyes as they size each other up. I don't see any lizard listening, ears pricked up in attention not even a pantomime of inattention. Maybe lizards aren't adept at listening, except for detecting their prey? I see reptilian sneers. I hear reptilian jeers. Sense plenty of reptilian snappish attitude. Gargantuan Gila in blue pinstripe suit and red tie. Crackle-skinned Politicos pontificating lies. Monitor lizards on the street in black and white cars. While scrawny newts and geckos are eviscerated, swallowed by Raptors. Vegi-saurs cowering in corners wearing lizard shoes but preaching there's a better world in the hereafter A large spectacle a coliseum composed of all of Elite Lizard-dom. Low on the evolutionary scale but charging high sums for the privilege of an audience. So I'm praying for Rabbits. For warmer blooded furrier inhabitants. Even for those with nakeded-ness and frail vulnerabilities like myself. So when a friend said Lizard Magic. I'm not so certain his tongue slid over something or slipped. I believe instead he was onto a whole lot of something more truly relevant. Jim Morrison may have wanted to be The Lizard King but he never lived long enough to see the True Hell of it... January 3, 2018 re-edited for relevance to today's circumstances Written directly to the page June 3rd 2015 with no corrections. Meloo/Melissa A Howells Straight from Her Tilt-a-World Copyright Reserved By This Author All poetry/prose/ideas/rants are the expressed legal property of this writer. Vote for this poem |
|