Dragon Sport

Sporting with Dragons

Saint George I never was, nor archangel

Michael with his awesome sword and spear;

nevertheless, in imagination I stand before

that gory-headed beast with his seven

crowns and carrion breath, spouting noxious

vomits of brimstone and death, and I stand

with pen in hand, no sword, no spear nor lance,

and write heroes to slay with guile and wit

what I’ve seen only in mind’s eye and art

pieces on museum walls. My heroes

and I strive for hours through sinister plots

to confront the unholy evil, to

strike it down, lay it low, rise above its

insidious bribes of immortality

and treasures unimagined. We shine our

glory and polish our armor, uncork

tonight’s rare vintage and toast our virtue,

chalices raised, catching and reflecting

sconce-light . . . wine’s velvet flow cleans dragon stench

from our throats and washes white our holy

robes after long days sporting with dragons.

David M Pitchford
29 April 2008