In his car's trunk Sobek the crocodile
Has a suitcase filled with defective time
And impenitent light and an assortment
Of nuts and bolts and lengths of string;
He's trying, when he has a moment,
To make another Sobek.
Baba Yaga criticizes his design
"The snout's too long and the legs
Far too short. There is, besides,
A shifty look to him -- the sort of folk
Who pray to crocodile gods
Need one they can really trust."
(Wait -- Baba Yaga's in this poem?
She's not on the cast list and
She's been assigned no dressing room.
Never mind; she's here and adjustments
Must be made. Return the new moon;
Hang up an old one, three-quarters full;
Pin a star on the door of her hut
And take down the "no smoking" signs.)
No comments:
Post a Comment