The word begins to
hiss as soon as the first
letter
goes on S
s-s-s-s-s-s-s forked tongue flickers
Hard eyes stare
Already the rest of the poem
shrinks back from
his narrow speed The paper
draws in its breath S N A K E
loops around the pencil
slides
among typewriter keys slips
like a silk shoelace
away
-Barbara Juster Esbensen