Lizard King

[Deor Ana Log]

Some manhole cover wheezes a serpent sound, Nice use of alliteration
that creeps across my already-molding body.
And just as I think of shedding my case,
this lyrical lizard snarls,
"you’re being nothing but tame."

I pack my skin and skulk a new way,
my leathery hand unkind to my thinking skull,
trailing scraps of myself through the city’s teeth—
a thin, sick leash
dragging its wet music behind me I am here at the scene with you 
while the lanterns launder every scene.

I pass a family of four—polished grief;
teenage eyes rehearsing warmth; this idea could be expanded into another stanza
a man browsing his wallet like files,
buying witnesses to float above himself;
warehouse maids with soiled hands, perfect hair,
socially stillborn.
The whole street loops—
same chorus, same bruise.
And I feel the city’s mouth
trying to make me harmless.

I lean on an abandoned door
and a tear meets the dirt.
I carve a sentence the city swallowed
from underneath swerving graffiti psalms—
“What if now?”—
drives me down a murky alley.
Here.
In a secret moment of neon hush,
I start to reproduce, 
each egg, lime-compacted of what I never was
but will become.
The lizard lingers somewhere in the gutter-glow,
humming a sickness I recognize.
I will wait—half shed, half caressed— at this point, the em-dashes become exessive in my opinion
for my fever-born kin.

First of all, your slant rhymes are doing work on their own. Second, maybe you should add some normal rhymes as well, to mix it up. This poem should be shorter, and more directly state it's core message. Right now it seems flowerly (or dirty actually), which works to its detriment. This made me think the first time a read it, thanks for sharing - Deor Ana Log