Crocodile Princess Poem by Margaret Alice Second

With a box on my chair - the friendly one, not the
menacing threat with 4 attacking claws rolling on
one wheel towards me to prick my feet & scratch
my legs till I bleed -& my back support strapped
to my waist I'm sitting down, my computer screen
high keeping neck-vertebrae safe - feet burning
standing in the morning & scrubbing in the bath
to change my barefoot Achilles heels into the
delicate pink feet seen in advertisements

Working on Boegoeberg reminding of sounds
like Kelkiewyn, Kokkewiet, Bokmakierie & Piet-
My-Vrou, the complainant's endless list of injuries
indicates he protests too much - how can whole
districts suddenly turn into predators & attack
like a pack of wolves in central Siberia - what
did this whining guy do to arouse the ire of a
large rural group preventing him from enjoying
his right as a human being to water all the time

I always suspect provocation when one person
claims to be innocent victim and decry a whole
group of evildoers, I'm wrestling his letter to the
ground, reading between the lines, if NOBODY
is on this man's side he alienated everyone, let's
relay the tragic words of this tortured soul to sing
his litany of self-justified accusation against the
people sharing Planet Earth with him - let me
finish this text & construct a production sheet

To inform the micro-managed Government of
my every breath which is the Politicians' way
to count pennies as billions are unaccounted
for - I fought Portuguese terms to the ground &
discovered Spanish is a big train smash even
though my alternate selves came through from
the stars and chipped in while they let me live
in this universe as a happy crocodile who went
out for lunch crooning "The Hills Are Alive"

To myself - feeling the practically perfect Mary
Poppins' sparks - her whirling around London's
Chimneys; this Crocodile Princess is in the sky
with her, too happy to stay on the ground…