Snake Oil Water

Snake Oil Cures Cancer The Apollo Snake Minerva and Me Solution Like a Beautiful unrepentent Bloody Mary Kareoke Apollo: Humble Ear A snake isn't the bite you fear It's his eyes. Those cold eyes. He can see: And he knows: Your weakness is this. You can't radiate sickness away. Moving and weaving and slivering and gliding I detached the sick strings. Bits of venom were weaved within every bit to bite. It was strange that wolves voluntarily showed their neck to me: They said "Bite here." as supplicant and willing to cure like a patient laying down for a surgeon. Amidst all this alone with Minerva and me, I saw you walk by with a lizard resting on your shoulder. It's easier for a sun to know a man, but might be a bit detached from his own fusion. The world that didn't care is what you were blind to see. The 1=1 equation didn't quite compute to heavenly sanity. That's why without a snake like me to see you would have just blown up with no one to cry. Cold eyes can swim like a cobra over a river. I mixed metaphors because this poem is mine.