Year of the Snake

It slithers in, wet and black in the night,

bringing its bombs, guns, knives, wide

eye of the lunatic fringe, encouraging

the fanatical, and that’s no joke, no

cute astrological nonsense, now, is it?

This morning rain is cold, spotting

the windows, as I sit and worry

about loved ones near and far.

In a good Snake Year, business

deals, money-making (beware

of loopholes), but a Water Snake

year is the Satanic abyss, the void

of deep space, a hungry wolf

howling in the Arctic expanse,

humming on a full moon nerve.

In the blue light of the television,

I am sending electronic messages

of support, carrying on with both

hope and dread.  When it stops raining

later today, I will go out and look at all

the flowers of this mad, gone world.

~ Lauren Tivey

*Note: Salvaged poem from my expansion drive crash. This was written last year, in 2013, which was the Year of the Snake. Currently, we are in the Year of the Horse.