Willow Wallow Poem by Alyssa Rieper

His demeanor is that of an honest conman
with an aroma of a manky tom
a smirk crosses his slimy pointed teeth
cutting edges in his salty skin
and reaches calloused earlobes

Under the willow he picks
mercilessly at his worn latticed jacket
He feels the roseate of the blossoms
they are the shade of David Bowie’s eye makeup
on the poster clearance sign
at Cheapo (Minneapolis disc shop)
-more so deep red than roseate

but his teeth aren’t really pointed
Jjst morphed through the hairs
on his unkempt mustache

People around feel bad for the man
but remember saying,
better safe than sorry
and linger far from his interest

The verbose lashings of his quips glue
loosely to the local ears
tightly to the new families’
they cover little ears in agitation
while he encircles the tree
gnawing and biting the bark

A lizard sneaks in closer to get a glimpse
the conman will be a prophet
it will not be said, but he will hear it

Auld Lang Syne tinkers in his throat
he drops loosely on a happy root
with the intentions to weep, pray, and change
showered with burgundy blossom pedals
-more so reddish brown than burgundy