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I Walked With A Tiger
I walked with a tiger,
In his own maimed pace
And I found myself
Spineless,
In his soles,
Tiger-legged and tired.
Spangled with stripes,
Disdain, an ebony river
Of rue.
The hue taints the blood
The poison intoxicates
The night,
The feet of the gods dangle
From the firmaments
And the cicadas complain about
The scant rain.
I walked with him,
Tiger-like,
With a singeing tiger prowess
A culpable threat of equanimity.
He sojourned
And vanished in the black mist
Of the wintry éclair.
I am tired
As I folded the pavements,
And chased the curbs down, hunted
For bodies mutilated in the corner
Of the jagged cornerstone
I was tired in his skin,
Tiger-legged,
With woebegone paws.
poem
by
Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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