Finding Yourself Searching for Something

I decided to become a skateboard
and a family of lizards. A child
stole it and rode half of me away.
My lizards split up and canvassed the area,
finally setting camp in the deep bush.
My father lizard stayed up late
reading the newspaper.
My mother lizard painted her toenails.
We wept in separate beds, though
I often woke in the night and crawled
in bed with my brother lizard. I had
dreams about spiders clinging
to my tongue, tickling the inside of my neck.
Bees flew from my mouth.
I woke alone, in flaking green skin,
my raised spine like a water snake.
We finally made it to California.
We feasted on fruit flies and searched the empty
swimming pools for adolescent dreamers.
Stoned teenagers with
stringy hair showed up, pushing off
and slinging themselves into the bowl.
From the leaves we watched, hoping
to spot something familiar.