Lizard

Years ago I met an assured, self-sufficient, powerful, oddly friendly man that frightened me. I put away my ill-gut-feelings and believed he was what he said he was. We did an odd dance around, we did, a come-here/go-away sashay. As time passed as often happens I learned that he was not what he seemed, for in his belligerent-breath’d mouth hid a tongue riddled with deceit and conceit. Ultimately his boomer voice revealed a blue and orange lizard sunning on sandstone rocks, a bow tie at its scaly neck, expensive shoes on its four feet, dis-ease in its bite, fame and ego driving the discourse, leaving bloody disasters in its wake, adding pleasure to the feeding before passing on to other victims - including me. I survived by hiding among the dead, pulling myself through the slippery in the moon night, hiding in obscure places until I escaped. What did I learn? Never trust lizards that wear bowties. © Jack Jordan, 2013