Sasquatch.
Last night
Yeti invited me for dinner.
To his dwelling decorated with icicles.
He carried me with his potent arms
throughout glaciers and crags.
To his abode up in the violent mountain.
He introduced me to his friends.
Snow.
Ice.
Wind.
Loneliness.
He seated me softly in his carpet
made out of bones, skulls and shattered furs
of the animals furiously eaten before.
He gave me fresh blood for drink.
We ate Tibetan flowers and Himalayan red moss.
When we finished
Yeti sang
a strange song
a far sounding song
a deep sounding song.
His eyes with that weird shine
that announced my certain death.
And the beginning
of Yeti’s real dinner…