Friday, June 15, 2007

Zoo Poem

We escape
our bright balloons
like helium:
molecule by
molecule the
tug bowed
to our fingers fades,
the strings drawing
ever more
until we’re left
in a litter of peanut
shells and caramel
all the grownups
saying it’s either
the anthill or
the monkey house,
make up your mind.

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