Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Reptile House, Singapore

“Mid-flight, the snake makes a perpendicular turn.” The Cold-Blooded Review

My cipher is the Paradise Tree Snake
which flattens itself into aerofoil
and glides. This house on earth is luck’s mistake;
I’m born of air, not water, wood or soil.

Here many snakes exist, less snake than sock.
A python sleeps in its non-Delphic pit.
Two oriental whips pair in wedlock.
And a black spitting cobra does not spit.

This cage has stupefied desire and doubt;
I must escape into the thrashing trees
and navigate in darkness like the scout
who senses through its skin false guarantees

and turns, mid-flight, towards the unforeseen,
not held back by what has, or might have, been.


I am flying to Singapore to spend Christmas with my family. I hope to post something new on New Year's Day. Happy holidays to all.


Larry said...

Merry Singapore Christmas, and thanks again for this blog.

Finally a picture of you: looking thin, shy, unassuming, intelligent, very young. Any tinge of shrewd poetic machinations well-hidden behind wire-rim glasses and an insecure smile.

The Clark Kent of poetry.


Larry said...
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CarolY said...

I miss the the socks!

CarolY who read this some time ago and liked it then.