That was my dearest,
the old man behind us says
mumbling into his golden
colored sweating glass.
On the stone floor
between us, lizards
are copulating and biting
jealously at each others’
necks.
It’s probably maybe a metaphor
for life.
Worst airport I ever flown
into, the old man continues
his tale of drinking woe.
More at http://jddehartwritings.blogspot.com.
