Snake Path

coiled up on the path, one more step to gauge its wrath
backing up the way that I came from, and coming forward, a black flickering tongue
adrenalized, cold snake eyes on a summer day

no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the sound, I’ve got a rattle in my spine
no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the fangs, I’d rather taste some local wine

ski pole out, I’m off the path, circling round in the grass
rising up, the head drops a shadow, the sun is staring like a face at a window
a butterfly drifts on by and I’m moving slow

no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the sound, I’ve got a rattle in my spine
no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the fangs, I’d rather taste some local wine

suddenly alive on a dull vacation
what a wonderful surprise to know serpents surround me

ride on its back, says a voice deep within me
last time I heard it peaking on liquid LSD
just take a ride on the ancient guide and your path will be reborn

no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the end, I’ve got a rattle in my spine
no I’m not waiting, no I’m not waiting for the fangs, I’d rather sip some local wine

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