The Green Lizard I felt like a prisoner in my dreams. I was under lock and key at a prison in Paris like Verlaine, Villon, and Voltaire. In a dark cell drawing sketches was a green lizard. It spoke French and a little Spanish. The sketches were painted on the walls. The green lizard was my cell mate. Its bleeding tongue was its brush and the walls were graffitied with red moons, red stars, and red mountains. Through a window in the prison, the green lizard would come in and leave through the bars in the window. The prison guards would beat me mercilessly every morning, never believing that it was the green lizard that bloodied the walls with art. They asked me where I hid the paint and why the sketches were red.
About the Author: Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, and Unlikely Stories. His latest poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press in 2021.
Image Credit: Thomas Barbour “Dasia Smaragdinum” (1912) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 