The Snake-God St. Tropez
early morning Place des Lices
at breakfast my coiled croissannt tells me
beware the Snake-God
he had not been placated
the vagrant's forward roll had skewed to the left
at lunch
out from the shade cicadas screech
as they identify
one of their own kind
protruding from the cheese-topping on my pizza
at dinner
I consume slivers of raw flesh
possibly the wine-waiters arm
it is July in St.Tropez
in the year of
the serpent
or the insect
or the amputee
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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