"The Lion Catchers"         
By Patrick de Moss

* * * *

call it what you will Miss Stanley,

but what do you presume?


with your light

your cats eye half shuttered you come across me here

lost again

writing letters which reach no one

but how is it you never fail to find me?

and what is it you wish to say?


you

the smoker that thunders

that falls around me victorious

my heart buried deep in you

my chest pressed

to your map covering

so many secrets


& I have caught the lion at your back

gripped it tight in feverish hands

as it writhed and roared in the wild night

and let go only to feel your teeth at my shoulder,

oh how elegant the lion catcher

who will not try to tame


tonight on homely fare we’ll dine

on coffee, grits and cigarettes

and hope to catch one another again

this the source of what we are

a river in Africa undeniable but still never found

we wrap around one another again and yet again

in our attempt to assume, presume and define

ever failing

but for that an’ a’ that

I cannot put to words how thankful I am

to welcome you here.