I can't help thinking tadpoles began
as podtails, coming full circle
like cats that flee & chase themselves.
Cars skid & spin outside on Ocean
Parkway, while inside on cable, oxen
born to end in soup swat flies.
White-handed gibbons, black-capped
capuchins, soulful, brown-eyed, chosen
to represent their kind stare back from
Mammals of the World, as I scribble Unite.
Last night you touched my coccyx:
How do you call this in English?
Ammonia for chocolate, aspirin
for sweat, lemon & tartar
for rust. Meat tenderizer
for blood. For grease, more grease
works best. From pinstripe,
in summer, tropical wool. I'll follow
instructions closely to remove you
& halfway I will.
Sop with a soft, absorbent cloth,
obscure you as clouds
do the moon.
What a weird word
looked at too long
in my Easy Italian Companion
at the Church Ave. station.
Definitions I daydream:
holy sieve, svelte wolf.
The F doors open, a hirsute man
bearing the news in Urdu
shuffles off, elbows akimbo,
as my index finger hits the gloss,
development. I stare at C-H-U-R-C-H
spelled out on terracotta tiles
until there's nothing but CH and UR.
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