Dr. Hue sits beside
the sole bench at Alligator Lake,
word around the condo
is that the great lonely beast
has returned to our modest
body of swamp water
and is hiding out
just blow the branches
of the lake’s only tree, a low
slung willow that seems depressed

My view from the second story
window is singular:
one bench
one man
one tree
small pond
somewhere a bird screeches
no reptile

Without turning around
and looking up
how does he know 
about my watchful eye:
ZZ is watching
waiting and watching
thinking the creature’s presence
a mere fiction,
then in a flash like lightning 
Dr. Hue jumps over the bench
just out of reach
of the monstrous lunge

A door opens in my mind
Dr. Hue has entered my body
his presence 
like the presence of Buddha