Le Tigre
the tiger deflowers and lays to flat
a pride and hubris you've long kept intact
perched on thin bough
stripped cat of its meow
claws cut through bush, red earth and Muntjac
and teeth draw blood on a great Pollack canvas
dark as Bordeaux in a patterned Acanthus
a thick spray of clay
blooming arches and folds
the verdigris breath of a desert-night cold
Copyright © Paul Sylvester | Year Posted 2005
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