Snake-Bit

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One of these days down the road, you’ll see,
Before life ends, it’ll happen,
You’ll be snake-bit or dog-bit or develop a limp
Or mistakenly kiss Michael Jackson’s chimp
Or breed carcinomas under your pits till you ache.

Maybe you’ll hit that next sharp corner
Clutching a cell-phone and a map and you’ll crash
And the semi behind you will crawl up your ass
And your floorboarded feet and all your false teeth
Will fall through the cracks deadly fast,
Leaving that jaunty $4 hat you wear juicy, frayed, and flat.

Or maybe you’ll thoughtlessly open
That creaky front door at home one night
And stumble willy-nilly across some burglar at work
Who didn’t expect you, either,
And the adrenalin will rise to a roar.

Maybe you’ll just be scared or maybe get
Your skull crushed and your eggs reduced to mush—
A thick or thin pink salsa slush
For firemen with rubber-soled feet
To hose off the graveled street.

Just wait, you’ll see…


rcs.

7th draft: 05/03/04
©2003 Ronald C. Southern

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