When deep underground
in vast subterranean caverns
that drip with moisture &
winged shadow & echoes
of past, present, &
oh-so-uncertain futures –
do not attempt to parley
with Wyverns;
Nostrils seeping brimstone,
they will sit quietly grinning
across the conference table’s
great gleaming length of wood
& agree to every- & anything
that creates a sense of ease…
All to their own strategic
advantage.
An exercise,
for you,
in utter
futility.
— CBirde, 4/22
Nightjars & Damselflies 
Wickedly poetic (though I find myself questioning some word/punctuation choices, throughout). I can picture this dank meeting room with a cunning dragon-man sitting across from (me/you/us). A “sus” contract divides the prey from the predator. I refuse to sign unless threatened beyond self-control.
Now, I wonder what prompted such a dream…some crucial decision and your reluctance to face the outcomes?
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