Bottoms Up

Sitting under a tree in front of Echo Dorm, the
sun is happy today warm not scorching.
My book Art of Living lies open, a cold coke at
hand. Bliss and peace as the
thrum of prison fades.

Until

Half a snake falls into my lap
writhing & lashing still desperately alive.
I leap from the bench screams
tearing throat & dance wildly with
waving hands & fierce joy around the tree.

My half of snake meets manifest
destiny. Above lunch is served as a
golden hawk perched on a high branch
munches on snake tartare
head first down the hatch.

I am filled with gratitude for the
gift of a snake butt
instead of the front.