Lizards
This might sound strange, but I just
witnessed two lizards mating. I was
quite uninvited, but they didn’t seem
to mind my gazing from beyond the
cafe window. Actually, they seemed
to enjoy my presence, those saucy
little dragons. The foreplay was hurried but
effective, the male flashing his spiky, red
under-chin, which flared proudly even
though it wasn’t all that big. To my surprise,
the female accepted this endeavor. Then again,
it is mid-afternoon, which is pretty much
closing time for scaly critters. They ascended
a small branch beneath a bush and
began their reptilian coitus. The male
was all bravado and fanfaronade. (He
might have mated with his own reflection
if he had seen it in some broken bit of glass).
The female, though still consenting, was still,
unmoving, and unimpressed, as if she were
counting the seconds until this union was
no more. Luckily, it didn’t last long.
After, she prodded him, seeing if he’d like to try
again, but the male was already half-
asleep, limbs dangling from the twig.
She ran off and it was over, and I was
left to bare the shame of this brief, impersonal
conception. As I pondered this, the unfair
reality of female lizards, a thought
occurred to me, a kind of resolution:
I really should get back to work.
Samuel Spencer is a writer based in Tampa, Florida. He feels very passionately that form and technique have a place in the world of poetry, but admits that guidelines should never guide your lines.