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A force at the gates
of zoodoms, monkeys with
crowns and hippos with capes.
We see our hero, thinking it
is a joke, laughing at the
lions with pink in their manes.
A roar for revolution and
his sword like a rubber snake.
He held his widow the night before
and told her that she shouldn’t
go to L.A., that they would take her humanity
and spread it over their sunsets, steal her messianic
jewels. He waves his sword in
a tiger’s mouth, laughing at
the stripes and teeth inside his head.
Shapes falling from the sky, marriage
on his mind, Apollos and the music
playing on the water.

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