Mid-air, underwater, outer-space
He was the “static” in place
Unshaken, unruffled, unperturbed
On a couch, that could take the blissful snores, unheard
What could spring the sleeping anaconda awake?
Or, was he some human-species , born out of the placid lake?
Everyone has a vulnerable point
So must he, figuring that out, took me to the tipping point
Then “Eureka!” I realized, he was the number man;
If I could purloin his credit, swipe it with élan
Won’t it send him skywards like a rocketing pheasant?
To find the missing tally, he would be on the hunt
The amount however meagre, to which tantamounts
I had discovered his Achilles heel
When they are no longer asleep ,
It is the accounting tenacity in every spiel!
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