Our love is like a pair of ancient lizards, sleeping in the noonday sun
Against the heat of desert furnace, we live and catch our winged prey
As other loves perish from thirst for want of rainy fountain
Our love survives the lack of water through cold-blooded design.
Against the rocks and rough and tumble of the passing of our lives
We slither slickety along the rocky sands
For you alone are my desert love, showing your pink tongue to the curulean sky
And I am your reptilian beau, surviving the beating of afternoon suns
To rule in tandem the sands upon which we skitter
Sharing the flies and fleas we find, in loving union, as holy communal banquet.
I wrote this for a contest at the Atlanta Shakespeare Tavern. I hope I win.
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1 comment:
That is a truly awful poem. I think you shall win the bad love poem contest and we shall be going to the Atlanta Shakepeare Tavern.
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