The random poet
is his mantra
an invisible dragon, he
snakes through the darkened alley
cold scales running down his spine
visible only in those victims'
minds whose memories of jaws sinking into flesh
are still fresh

his eyes are like
ball-bearings, i feel them rolling in my
hand like
ice i gaze and see a pond
metalic film across its eye
reflecting only mine
whose heart is hardened

they roll in my hand i feel their weight now and remember when they glowed
like auburn fire falling
into a warm embrace
as his tongue slithers
a serenade
sweet as morning sun i hear
the water outside
trickling kisses down the rocks
as he strums his guitar
he strums my heart.