As Cunning As Serpente Poem by Dorothy Featherstone Porter

You can cradle
this snake's head
for only so long

don't pretend
you can push it away

the night outside
flicks
with spice and hiss

you're not wise
you're not peaceful

your spine is ringing
don't answer it

you can stroke
this snake's belly
for only so long

don't forget
your fingers will tell

they'll smell
of indelible snake

is that what you want
that old reptile reek?