Wednesday, February 3, 2021

on the lake where the black lion drinks

my dreams are black lions at midnight -
lapping up crocodile water.
crocodile's not hungry
but he listens. through his cold blooded filter
he can sense 
lion’s beef with hyena

my dreams ride on ripples
--herds, prides and basks--
collude as they pass 
through
one another 
like nothing
incredible’s happened

hyenas conspire to increase through
subversive signs of submission
priapic bitches! the future is fluid 
nothing’s loved
or trusted along
the bank
of the lake 
where the black lion drinks

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