The Lioness and The Cowardly Lion
The lioness roared
in Cowardly Lion’s ear
to run his nose through her coat
close enough to smell
the bloody gazelle in her body.
She promised the drought
in these woods won’t last long,
lowered him onto a bed of mushrooms,
and told him to suck on her tail
until it becomes silky like a slug.
*
Drool dripping from his mane,
Cowardly Lion rose back up for oxygen,
then Lioness broke off a piece of bamboo,
told him to grip it like an outsider
on a broomstick trying
to fly his way out of Oz.
She crouched below his core
slobbed his manhood until mist built up.
His eyelids erupted with tears.
Lioness roared why bring the river so soon?
But Cowardly Lion only wailed,
like a waterfall.
*
Lioness hovered over Cowardly Lion,
his eyes exude with mercy
but Lioness only gave him
the look of silence is golden,
then pushed him into a prickle bush
and planted all of her on top of his lips.
Cowardly Lion wept harder,
inside and out and moved his
tongue like the tornado
that blew Dorothy out of Kansas.
Lioness titled her head back
and roared yes,
the drought doesn’t last long.
Lioness squirmed like a sphere of static
told Cowardly Lion to hack up
all the juices he took in
and kiss her like the king of the jungle.
He did.
*
Lioness drug her nails
across his knees weakening him
to stay low and keep going,
roared cry until
the crocodile come swimming.
Lioness watched the drought
get drenched
and told Cowardly Lion
to mount up like she
was invading his liar.
He turned her south,
and wrapped
tumble weed
around her throat,
gripped it,
and slip into Lioness,
smooth
like oil into a Tin Man.
The Cowardly Lion
stroked and squalled
as if he was slaughtered.
Lioness stuffed his mouth
with a pinecone
to quiet his moans
and roared
the drought is over!
Cowardly Lion
kept going
until his last ounce
of wetness
leaked from him.
He leaned over
and collapsed
like the house
that crashed
in from
the tornado.
*
Cowardly Lion,
still, like death,
watched
a row of ants
walked off
with leaves
coated in
his tears.
Lioness
rose
back up,
paws
sunken
into puddles,
and before
wandering off into the woods
she licked Cowardly Lion’s
last tear
and roared in his ear
always have courage just like
a witch walking alongside a lake.
Headliner
Drunk man crashes into woman’s car.
Woman’s head strikes steering wheel.
Condoms fly from back seat.
Woman gets out, sees bashed bumper,
crumbled plate, throws slurs.
Drunk man spits and flicks off woman.
Woman flings black dildo.
Drunk man records woman until cops arrive,
then winks goodbye.
Next week headline news, her picture,
Porn star sues: rear ended.
Biography
Oak Morse lives in Houston, Texas, where he teaches creative writing and theatre and leads a youth poetry troop. the Phoenix Fire-Spitters. A Warren Wilson MFA graduate, Oak has received Pushcart Prize nominations, fellowships from Brooklyn Poets, Twelve Literary Arts, Cave Canem’s Starshine and Clay as well as a Stars in the Classroom honor from the Houston Texans. His work appears in Black Warrior Review, Obsidian, Tupelo, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Nimrod, Terrain.org, Hampden-Sydney Poetry Review, among others.