bright serpent,
creature of the deep,
representation of illumination
of pollution,
coiling like oil,
like a spill of paint,
through the water
choking the living of life.
Breathing fire,
somehow
in the ground,
but you are made of tires,
and probably some wires,
a bottle or two.
I’m glad you’re not real,
but what you are is a saint,
for if you weren’t made-
you might be dumped underground,
where the damage runs deep.
 | |
| one of Melissa Muldoon's "Dragons" |
