Thursday, December 20, 2012

Angel Poems: The Angel of Lizards

This poem required a bit of tightening, but in general held up pretty well and there are a couple of lines I really like.  The concept draws a bit on the shifting loyalty required of elite athletes who are suddenly traded to a different team and must instantly bond with former rivals and say how excited they are for the new opportunity (and it must be particularly painful/galling when one is traded to a weak team like the Toronto Raptors).  To say nothing of the disorientation of the fans, who must now cheer on someone they disliked or might have actively hated.

In many ways, I am a harsher critic of more recent poems, such as these angel poems, as they just seem a bit baggy and self-indulgent.  It is odd (and perhaps just a bit depressing) that my earlier poems are better -- or at least more concise.  But I was closer to a working poet at that time and had a lot of feedback from peers.  I don't think I will ever be in that sustained mode of poetic production again, but I guess you never know.

The Angel of Lizards

The angel of lizards is quite upset.
Rumors are spreading
that it is going to be put in charge of snakes.
The angel of lizards doesn’t even like snakes --
nothing to do with what went down in Eden.
(Everyone has practically forgotten that.)
Snakes slither --
their own mothers can’t trust them.
Lizards sun on top of rocks.
Snakes hide under the rocks.
The angel enjoys changing color,
blending into the background

like a chameleon when it sits still.
If it tried to ride a tiger,
it would end up with stripes
marking its body, its wings,
even its halo.
The angel would never ride a tiger --
it would look ridiculous.
Even the idea of hanging from trees with the pythons
doesn’t begin to make up for leaving iguanas behind.
The angel is called into the main office.
They drape a rattlesnake around its shoulders.
It is done.
The angel of snakes looks into snake eyes.
It runs its fingers over the smooth scales,
watches as the snake contracts,
wrapping around the angel’s arm.
The angel can feel its tongue forking.
It wonders how could it have been so blind.

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