The Heartless Reptile

The alligator makes love to
A cloud of the shape of
Grecian beauty; an entire pearled
Orchard bilious and queasy
In the heliotropic shadow of the
Broken down school bus;
I am the only one who
Sees;
Because all the kids are raucous
But well behaved in their
Lunch room,
And you are out on the soccer field
With scraped knees-
Tonight they will itch and scab in
Your bedroom,
And when you pick them you’ll
Stain the sheets;

And when famished, the
Cloud slips away,
Beckoned by the raw sun;
And the alligator doesn’t say
Anything;
It goes back to the canal,
And I crawl under the bus and smell
The sweat and tears shed in the
Purple soot for the heartless reptile.

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!