Mr. Crocodile Eyes and lion’s mane
He’s tapping a pen on the table
What a nasty little secretary; I wish he’d go away
Does he have to watch me with those almond eyes while
The Royal Child leers over
No need for that jackal like stare
I caught the contamination within hours
Not much of it got to the public.
None, as far as they know.
Not like this barren plant cares
The Royal Child wasn’t born to care
or we know he wouldn’t be sitting there.
Not like there is life here to hurt with a spill
As if there were people who could become ill
I wouldn’t be here if I could instill
Humanity in this plant.
But glancing at the Royal One
Mr. Crocodile Eyes taps his pen on the table
I don’t respond well to that
I wonder what else he knows
I wonder now, if he is able
To discover anything
Why does he look hungry?
Does he know how the sands of the deserts call me
And I call this desert to sand?
I think he does.
And I’m finding it hard to explain why
The exact reason I sat by
and watched all the toxins fly
into the air
For hours.
But harder it is to explain
How this office still stands--
And harder it is to explain
the rising of the sands
That swirl about me now,
As if they were somehow
Drawn from the back of my mind
And it’s hard to explain the Royal One becoming undefined
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