BROWSE Columns
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Far off on the horizon, do you see?
Across the meadows, underneath the moon
There rests a giant snake, I guarantee,
That, when it dwelt inside the sun, would swoon
Upon our lovely moon, so overtook
With enigmatic passionry. And thus,
The noble sun, its home, it has forsook
To coil upon our little earth with us.
It basks forever on that pockmarked face
And thinks it lovelier with every phase.
And we’ve agreed that I may use the space
Within its tail to meet the one whose gaze
Will strip my soul before we shed our clothes.
And of our bliss, only the serpent knows.
Max Vitelli is a London-based poet and writer interested in combining traditional form with contemporary anxieties, often informed by his own experience of aspergers. His work has been featured in Poet’s Choice and Eternal Haunted Summer. Other interests include long walks, cheap wine, country music, and not taking the world too seriously. His first full poetry collection, Sonnets of a 1/4 Life, is seeking publication.
