It’s only a matter of time, said the unidentified
guest, brown bands coiled, chin lifted, as if
to strike a pose. I never saw its tongue.
August night, mythology unwinding on the doorstep.
I open, close, grab the heavy flashlight,
camera—no memory—the moment slips
from me by inches over smooth stones
into the yard, almost eyeless, rippling spine,
wide corners of its head, now from behind.
I just want to know what you are, I say
to satisfy the humid buzz, the colorless halo
cast from the porch. No reply.
I keep the dogs in, identify common features
of inherited fear, warn the kids.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 26, Issue 3.
<Michael Quattrone (he/him) is the author of Rhinoceroses (2006 New School Chapbook Award). His work is included in the Best American Erotic Poems (Scribner, 2008) and the Incredible Sestina Anthology (Write Bloody, 2013). Recent poems appear in Bennington Review, Salamander, and Poet Lore.
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