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The Shell of a Turtle (language)

This entry is part of a series of entries "The Totem Chronicles"
The Shell of a Turtle

I woke up inside of what smelled and felt
like a tree,
took a pee,
stretched my legs,
scratched my ass,
and had a little smoke.

I pondered on my precarious predicament,
while stuck in the bowels
of a man eating plant,
posed as a damsel in distress---
clad in nothing
but a skimpy and flimsy-
handmade papier-mâché dress.

I carved out a tiny peephole,
in my little prison den-
looking outward, over, up, sideways, and down-
and saw naked women running all around~
in a circle singing ---
Halleluiah, Halleluiah,
“we’ve imprisoned
the Evil Fiddling Diddling Clown”

To my utter amazement
and astonishment,
it slowly dawned on me -
that these lovely nubile,
sex- starved hungry female
Nubians --- were singing their song of
captivity--- that possibly was
and most assuredly is ---
about none other than,
the notorious and glorious
sin loving Fiddler--- little old Me!

My Oh My~
What a prickly pickle of a predicament
I seem to be in…
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