CITY LIMIT

CITY LIMIT

I am that
three legged thing
the Sphinx confounded
everybody with
in its riddle

everybody, that is,
save Oedipus

soon no doubt
to be buried
with my stick
rather ignominiously
no horse drawn carriage
bearing my casket

but this is the thrill
of being human, that we
can imagine
such impossibilities

extend our understanding
out into
   fantastic realms of magic
and dream, or, alternatively,
really real science fiction

and me, as
thing singled out in Sphinx
conundrum, and
thereby
  less worthy of
being spoken about
than others
elsewhere on the age spectrum
of the species that I am

a paltry thing
King Leary type thing

mutating
     without grace but not quite
your standard cosmic
horror lovely
Lovecraft alien
           shapeshifting its way
at mesmerizing speed from
thing
    able to devour
a throng, a host,
a whole mechanized division

this
   in a single bite
and back
to civilized raconteur
in a simple wipe
of last few
bloodspots from
aristocratic mouth

sipping tea
exactly as custom insists,
and every social
protocol quietly
demands
it

Oh yes,
to connect with such
creatures, transcribe
their awe

is a thing we
are up to
wired as
we are

pushing that fear envelope
to the line
of every boundary

I am
that three-legged thing
with, if not special power,
then at least
dispensation

remember
this
    let it
soften your scorn,
failing which,
at least temper your laughter.