The Slippery Snake
The slippery snake,
sneaks and slithers —
his glare as sharp as ice.
Though his pupils burn,
he need not concern
with meek-natured mice.
He has had his fill — happy —
to tear their fur to shreds -
to adorn his visceral trail,
and leave their hearts for dead.
The slippery snake, slips
and makes his way to leave
but somewhere in the carnage -
a torso still breathes.