The Reptiles

lilies iris

Down that tight corridor like eel slippage
With the weight of the dust and the gold I have pinched
From the green room, which will likely turn
Acid. The reptiles have given me an ultimatum

They are calling in their forty per cent

Mortal is weary with all their demands
He sulks and hisses, his paillettes glimmer hotly
Shades of bronze, verdigris and rouge roi marble
Oh for a return to swallowing whole chicks!

The taxes have to be paid

In the felt bunker, three piles of dragon money
Are scintillating and dripping in a pool of mercury
Poisoned drones hover overhead, The directors
Eye the accounts books, squinting cold magnetic eyes
Through half lunar chipped pince-nez

You know there is war
You know it is finality

Despotic singularity
Hardheaded righteous sense.

Veronica Aldous 2015 All Rights Reserved


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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