The Dragon Alligator

Was very lonely. Sitting perched in his tree he looked across the top of the swamp for a friend. He saw St. Elmo’s Fire and couldn’t carry a conversation. He saw swamp gas and didn’t want to play the silly games. He saw a shiny moonshine still, but it exploded at him after a simple hello.
The Dragon Alligator preferred his fish blackened. The Dragon Alligator enjoyed the feel of leaves on his back over the drying cracks of mud. He did not like pretending to be a log; he always seemed to steam.
The Dragon Alligator sighed a bright sigh and watched the sun set a bright orange across the shimmering swamp.