My friend Janine has a tiny terra cotta
serpent made of arches, loops of red
fire-hardened clay. When you set up

the curves in a row, a line on an obsid-
ian table-top, let's say, or any other
shiny surface, water-like, what you get

is an illusion, mirage, fantasy — a dotted
stitch sewn by your eyes: four small arcs,
at one end (rising) the head of a velociraptor,

at the other (diving) the tail of a rattlesnake.
On this coffee table of dark stone, a mirror
clouded by years of creosote mist, Loch

Ness breached by mesozoic shimmer,
coils of a beast that should have been long dead.
St. George, England's patron... it was him or

this monster, devil-vermilion-scaled ophid-
ian champion. Chalk one up for good Sir George.
Or is this Quetzalcoatl? Feathered god

My friend Janine has a tiny terra cotta
serpent made of arches, loops of red
fire-hardened clay. When you set up

the curves in a row, a line on an obsid-
ian table-top, let's say, or any other
shiny surface, water-like, what you get

is an illusion, mirage, fantasy — a dotted
stitch sewn by your eyes: four small arcs,
at one end (rising) the head of a velociraptor,

at the other (diving) the tail of a rattlesnake.
On this coffee table of dark stone, a mirror
clouded by years of creosote mist, Loch

Ness breached by mesozoic shimmer,
coils of a beast that should have been long dead.
St. George, England's patron... it was him or

this monster, devil-vermilion-scaled ophid-
ian champion. Chalk one up for good Sir George.
Or is this Quetzalcoatl? Feathered god

dipping in and out of clouds, a large
pterodactyl-winged, emerald-eyed
messiah. Or Poseidon's messenger, the huge

sea-snake sent to devour Andromeda,
killed by Perseus, conquistador of the Gorgon.
Whose hair was made of small snakes, dread-

locks each exactly like these curls of auburn.
The sea-dwelling Orc the hippogriff-riding
Ruggiero bested to save Angelica. The Kraken.

The Basilisk. The Wyrm. Treasure-heaping
Wyvern: Grendel's cousin, Beowulf's fate.
Geryon, snake with scorpion tail, winging

Dante downward into abyss. Bahamut.
The Giant Anaconda. Ouroboros.
Dragon, dragon, dragon. But no, it's not

like that. It's just a little hocus-pocus,
a parlor trick. Just a sea serpent
of brick-red, kiln-fired curlicues.

And yet, she must also be a Titan
somehow. Somewhere inside the terra cotta
smoulders a small flame of a Leviathan.