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

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