Iguana Bliss


Iguana Bliss

The iguana sits

In the entrance of his lair,

Raising his head repeatedly

As if to look over something

That wasn´t there,

Or if someone was about

To throw a rock at him,

Or perhaps

He didn´t want to be noticed

Looking to see

If he might have any

New admirers out there.


Yesterday, I saw him

Through the peep-hole of my window

Engaged with a female iguana

In a slow pretentious act

Of iguana sexual intercourse,

Fully exposed

In the doorway of his cave

For all to see.


The rest of the time,

I have noticed,

He virtually ignores her,

Which is probably

Her preference as well,

As she certainly didn´t seem

To have enjoyed the act

Nearly as much as he did.


These are not shy creatures.

In fact, they are often seen

Being quite vain and prideful,

Even boastful of their exploits.

Although they sometimes

Do aver to due caution,

When necessary.


“Ah,” he said,

Opening his particularly foul mouth

In what was apparently

An iguana smile,

Probably brought on

By iguana post-coital bliss,

“As you have seen, I am

A very successful iguana,

Having done my part

To ensure that there will be

Many more iguanas around here

Than the likes of you.”


He then promptly fell,

Tumbling down the cut-bank

From his hole

Down to the ground below

In a cloud of dust.

He shook him self off

And proceeded to climb back up,

Muttering to himself,

“I meant to do that.”



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