FLEEING THE NEMESIS
Sweating profusely—instrospecting to
Find subtler details, evidence for his
Sorrow. Then do all his fingers point at
Him, for the cub he overlooked is the
Lion about to eat him. He prays,
Hopes, anticipate for better speed
His black-turning-white flushes
with promising thoughts:
O that I escaped today, I would
Rid myself of every wild beast
Ever petted. True indeed, for in the
Face of challenge, the mouth can
Promise the world