Day 6 prompt: write a poem from the point of view of one person, animal, or thing from Hieronymous Bosch’s famous, bizarre triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights. After spending too much time searching the five-hundred-year-old hallucination on wood, I decided on one of two snakes from the left panel.
They could have blamed the moon,
or that unicorn, which never existed,
but no. Let’s go low, they said.
Talking creepy crawlers, snakes,
and fruit peddling serpents make
splendid scapegoats. Why not a goat?
We can’t talk, bark, purr, or bleat.
She points to me, he believes her,
and all hell (right panel pun) happens.
Pin it on snakes, they said. Scary,
but defenseless. Look at panel two’s
big party of naked fruit eaters.
We got the rap for all of that. Sinners
should blame monkeys. At least they
look and act like you people.
And what’s with the guy
growing flowers out his arse?
Who does that that? Not us.
So, what do you get? Panel three.
From a diluted old man
with bad acid in his enema.
Time now to get over it.
Past post-medieval art is fine,
slithering snakes are silent.
Look both ways, or with triptychs, three ways.
Mind the gaps, it’s where the story’s told and the pictures fold.