Shimla Shoyla

by Patrick Coughlin

But what if I have to

frazzle the Razzler

dashing to untoward salamander shmorgasbords

hard to cook you may be sure

a lizard blooded lava pure

the absence of  purpose such a notion might service

tells me it’s real

I Bite my tongue

The salamander speaks

I love a white moth

when the wings flash off

in the red glowing air

Shim Shoy