Saturday, September 24, 2016



One of those urban myths, without the urban part.
That's got to be what it is
he muttered, cracked lips oozing pus.
Bending low to a dream of grass… no, it was just sand again.
Everywhere. Dunes, mirages, and every oasis a falser fantasy.
The other, hump bent sideways -- knelt for a turbaned rider.
Head turned but reply-choked by his own crushed camel-spirit.

Forced. Off they trotted on their eight scorched two-toed feet.
Hmmm… what's beyond this hill of dust? Look. Yet another one.
Which of us wanted to go anywhere near here in the first place?
[That last part was unspoken by either of them, not unthought].
Just before they reached their thrice-hyphenated destination, #1

gasped Has even one of these things ever asked if we were thirsty?

© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2016

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