Snake - Poem by Tim Carlson
Sodden the messenger,
stings the pack,
fangs in as quick as the
arrow from his bow curves red,
and falls around the dirt,
comforted by your long scaly coils.
Flogging the horse that is dead,
distance is measured by the miles,
that take away your breath,
her contorted body coils tighter,
stealing one more of mine.
Body and soul are one.
Question conveyed with questions,
animated anger, her hair aiding,
the poison that curls up your,
veins and covers your eyes.
Red and raw blood, tears down,
and covers the ground.
I fall, unsettled by her many stoned men.
The black brutish dog, slobbering
black brutish lies.
Mount snakes back, stirring the doves from
the vultures stomach.
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