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crocodile hunter, shaman's apprentice

i gather my sticks and stones
beat around the bush
facing East, then West
bow three times

scrape my knees on the doorstep of persuasion
the attic filled with cobwebbed intrusions of domesticity
but nothing seems out of place,
my basement leaks with water under the foundation
and the walls shout with time cracking through the lifted iris
you purr like a selfish house cat, smug and twitching his whiskers
with pensive appetite,

i'm off to save the world, the sting ray in my pocket,
a jawbone on my shoulder,
dragonflies busy dodging mouthfuls of distress
the croc ticking out his schemes on Tuesday afternoon,

you could do worse than read this poem.
you should have read the riddle I left for you.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


Two lines floor me:
1. scrape my knees on the doorstep of persuasion - brilliant
2. i'm off to save the world, the sting ray in my pocket, - stunning

Both smack the face with just doing the living thing with all the pain involved in it. I have tendencies to see what I want to see in a poem. Doesn't matter if that's what the subject is about or not. When lines like this jump out and nibble me, I relish the prickling!

Outstanding work!


Pegasus was a genius,
living within a suit of difference.
He liked what he was,
nodded in respect and
simply flew . . . away.

By: K. Mulroney

" I am who I am, say what I say, do what I do. With no apology."

I love it when the muse has his/her way with me. Most of the times it works really well.
Thanks for reading, it seems few Neopoets read this type of poem.

Hopefully, I say a lot in what I don't spell out.


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