Boa's Ark - Part 3
Continued from Part 2
5. MIDNIGHT DREAMS
At night the soldiers sometimes dream
of many things which make them scream,
like
floating down a gelid stream
with burning flesh and cold ice cream
upon their lips, which makes it seem
as though their salt they can’t redeem
when looking back at bold extremes
of valiant warriors’ victory schemes.
Or ofter yet,
they sometimes meet
a broken skull upon the street
with gaping eyes, its mouth replete
with swollen tongue that can’t repeat
mere words of joy when lovers greet,
or yell aloud or indiscreet’,
or talk about the grand deceit
of Those Who live on Easy Street,
Who plot, destroy and overeat,
while others bide beneath a sheet
on bed of steely cold concrete,
with final gift a flag or wreath
that soon will wither like their teeth
when once they’re settled underneath
a mound of muck on mouldy heath,
to lurk in Limbo Land beneath.
And ever more before they wake,
appear quaint dreams not quite opaque,
like
upside down upon a lake
keeps popping up a pregnant Drake
who says “there must be some mistake,
I only have a bellyache”,
while high above’s a flying Snake,
(a sight to make a killer quake).
She cries aloud “for mercy’s sake
your foresight’s blind, your wisdom’s fake
the fragile bodies that you break,
impale or burn upon a stake,
then stack in layers like a cake,
reflect a lust that death can’t slake”.
And turquoise Turtles on the make
(though taking time to overtake,
each slurping down a chocolate shake)
rev up to plead “let us explain,
we think you men are all insane
with morals thin as cellophane;
for, peering through god’s window pane,
we see quite clearly those you’ve slain,
enough to fill the Dim Domain
with blood and guts and tears and pain,
Chimeras of a frenzied brain.”
A worn and weary weather vane
announces floods of claret rain
that forty days and nights sustain,
submerging mountains, raising Cain,
while flushing mankind’s acid reign
down nature’s evolution drain.
The Serpent hails a hydroplane
“because”, she hissed, “we can’t remain;
behind the hill, the atom’s spark
has vaporized the palace park,
reduced to dust the Meadowlark
and nullified the Rainbow’s arc”.
And while the others hush and hark,
a feline Toad begins to bark
“This plane is certainly Boa’s Ark.
Let’s flee the Human hierarch,
forsake all Men to sate the Shark
which swim within the Waters Dark,
and purge all traces of the Mark
in Eden when we disembark.”
The beasts, in lines, by twos embark.
The dreamers wake, they’re staring, stark,
behind their eyes, a watermark.
End
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2012
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