Cactus, you spiky sod,
sitting there all dry and prickly.
I see you, crusty cucumber with fangs,
S&M dildo, nature’s sand paper.
I see you, acting all hard,
smoking at the back of the bus
thinking water’s for the weak.
I see you, leaning towards the sun,
clearing your throat, dreaming
of grey clouds.
© Carl Burkitt 2020
