Drainage pool no.8

the raised asphalt stretches,

a punctuated arch,

the trucks go by,

some stop to tilt the hopper back,

some lose their cargo,

held by hope alone.

the drivers step out,

to smoke and assess the damage,

or manipulate the hydraulics.

under them,

the steam and mist merge,

a hidden revelation.

upon the stagnant liquid,

the long-legged stork marches,

she knows where to tread.

she eyes the residents, with concern.

I slither to you, my love,

my olfactory bill, richly reward.

oh, I have been here long, waiting.

i move slowly,

letting the fog overtake me.

cautious of making a sound,

as I scrape against the mold,

careful that the discarded,

sheets of nylon,

will not betray me,

as a tambourine.

But I am too late, alas,

as the amphibian bastard,

snaps its jaws shut,

I can see, that you look at me,

and your eyes say this to me:

you saw me coming, long ago,

you were waiting for my approach.

but it was not meant to be.

in my caution, i let my rationality,

win over my hunger,

and so the five-legged toad, has you.

his venom is faster than mine,

but his teeth are much smaller.

I am sorry,

I am sorry.

the mist rolls over the water,

and the moss,

and the bloodworms,

that come out crooning at night.

I’ll shed a tear for you,

but it stings so..