Christine Phillips Poet Free verse

The Lions Day

I pressed my hands against my face 

 and rock my body to and fro  

and let the rhythm flow  

where my imagination goes.  

The flies are crawling on the ceiling  

and the bugs are flirting with the alarm  

and the centipedes are crawling  

on the old dusty carpet  

underneath the cynical alter  

and the black bear is running  

around the town boring holes in the ground. 

The stone aged man with bronze  

Wrapped around the alter  

is a natural disaster  

His loud and thunderous voice

Burst up the ceiling dripping stains on the floor 

Another dejavu has entered the town  

With burning passion in its bosom  

and the people are running around, 

without hope or ambition  

the lion has escaped from its den 

Looking for a place to lay its head 

It is chasing the people around the street 

Busting down doors  

and ripping up clothes in the stores 

And the money man with the till 

Held his corner and watch  

the lion massacre unfold 

People are jumping on tables and running  

out the doors but it corner a group of men  

And mutilate them in the store 

A man mount the steps and 

 hit it several time with a desk 

and the lion leaped straight at him and 

cut his throat with a subtle grin. 

And just as he was about to take 

 Another dive the store keeper 

Finished him with a barrage  

of bullets from his gun 

The lion day has come.

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