old owl and i sat in a bar just talking sports and politics, and why the world was out of sorts. the lizard came and sat with us; he acted glum. at first, he chatted quietly, and sipped his rum. he drank some more, began to rave, and then to howl. then he passed out, and i was left alone with owl. "you grab his head, I'll take the tail," owl said to me. "we'll toss him out, and then discuss philosophy."
Copyright 1993 Edward Gaillard. All rights reserved.
Author's note: this poem appeared in the anthology Fresh Oil, Loose Gravel (compiled by Chris Losinger, Rochester, NY, 1993).