What is this little word that stares at me with two eyes?
Is it oogling me?
Is one of those eyes going to wink at me
And say, hey baby, come on over to the big W?
To which, I…
I don’t know why lizards make me think of T.S. Eliot and J. Alfred Prufrock but they do. [“They will say: “But how his arms and legs and thin.”]
Lizard on the edge
Do I dare disturb the leaf?
T.S. Eliot’s poem The Wasteland begins with this line: April is the cruelest month. The next few lines yearn for winter’s return so that we can remain wrapped in snow’s forgetful cover, safe from memory and desire stirring in the…