28.1.16

The Parable of the Snake
 
Can't remember what that one had, when it happened,
a part of me began to let loose on the reverse side
of Jack's feeding plan, another spin off
with a nod to final debate, the gentle leading
as if we completely understand.
Who swapped peas for beans in the jar
and then switched jars, the one heart
scathed and debrided with scissors and flame
the other still chock full?
Too late say the stick men, too early
says the yawning hole at West 23rd,
keep walking toward the uneven light.
This army of bitten tongues swells
then retracts as if it is breathing,
a long tailed carnivore begins
and ends the similitude by swallowing.
Who will stop the marching? how deep
the tunnel winds toward the turbine,
tourists forage in the racks on the way.
We pass a sign that says buckle up!
There might not be enough love now
to finance the mortgage, hold up the cow.
These souvenirs might have to go, price slashed
and cells remaining on the handles.
A generation to come, several files by law
demolished in seven years like itches,
snouts and beaks crud and fodder,
bait and switch, rattle and shed.
One more long minute is all
the clock ever said as it clicked and tocked.
 

No comments: