Cretins and druids I suppose.
I entered their lair because
that’s where the pathway
to the food had led.
One day I entered an elevated room
where the Chronicles were stacked
like washrags on the side of a tub.
I thought that was special...
The bones of cadavers
that preceded me were
evident everywhere...
I learned how to test the water
before drinking with curiosity...
Later when they closed their tent
and moved away I remembered
I had written “Can’t
Find the Pharaoh” there
and “Slingblade 2” and it was all
pretty funny in retrospect...
After the agony and testing,
a dented shield and scorch marks
always smell the same...
Hard to escape through
an air vent by “tunneling out”...
But sometimes a boneyard
is just a boneyard
despite the size of the fossils
and/or the pterodactyls entertained...
©Peter Bray, 1/17/10 All rights reserved
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