A Yard Behind A Bar, Casablanca, Afternoon Poem by James Munro
A Yard Behind A Bar, Casablanca, Afternoon
Sometimes I sit here ithyphallic,
god of the beasts.
The flies attend
and tortoises when in the mood
bite.
A geranium they threw out blooms.
We commune.
If flies were bigger, didn't wait -
like tortoises, say -
I'd be "food! I am food! "
white and gymnosophic.
Lord of the flies, a turbot head
begins to breed.
I smile. The geranium
nods.
Sunday, March 1, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life and death
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5/1/2024 10:47:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
