Poetry

Glenn McCrary


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17 july 2012

Viper’s Kiss II

What is there within this vagrant lady
That I can neither hear nor see,
That I fail to acquire or fathom
And still it beckons me?

Is not she but a blood stain in the moon---
A bit of water, plasma, enzymes?
And yet she plays upon her bong a truculent tune
As if Karma had not kissed her with his fangs!






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