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