• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 07
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Urban Myth

In a corner of Berlin, behind some metal railings,
beneath a canopy of trees, there’s an outhouse
in some scrubland, where an unknown artist
has painted a golden lizard across the brick.

If you find yourself nearby, leave it food scraps –
stale bread, citrus rind, banana skins, apple cores,
eggshells, potato peelings - then scribble a wish
on a bunting flag and hang it from a branch.

The lizard never moves by day but by night,
it comes alive, sheds its skin of flame-gold paint
and scuttles down the wall to feast beneath the stars.
its forked tongue fluttering across our offerings.