Be transient. Pass in silence:
the gene pool is the skin

of a zebra, striped black and white,
rippled, ripening like a banana.
You remind me of your mother:

number two pencils, justice,
redemption, black garbage bags in

shopping carts, beer-crusted bottles,
dented cans, crumpled lottery tickets,
used condoms wrapped in the American flag,

potential, the town of your birth.
Wings are chaos in symmetry.

Sandpaper burns as rough
against your fingers as you allow.


(originally published in CARNIVAL, 12/1/2014)

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