Emu Responds to a Question about the Unruly Beloved’s Latest Fling
You like what you see, Dear? This poor-man’s ostrich
of envy? No business of mine, but
you should know your bones are little cities
and when you let her sleep against you, she
crushes so many innocent civilians.
I thought we’d reached the tender basement
of your psyche. Then we dropped
like hope-free parachutists.
Her ankles are uncivilized. I found a stray feather
on the soap and regardless of what you’ve read, studies show
sexual jealousy turns a bird’s innards
into macramé dreamcatchers
I just wanted to sip light from the strange
quiet that gathers when you’re tired
at the top of your face.
How exactly do you live with it anyway?
The first time I saw your chest I meant to inquire
how you pack it up in those beautiful shirts
and carry it off. I mean:
Are you the reverse-stork of gorgeousness?
Finally, I do think she looks like your type:
like an elongated nighttime without weather.
Like it’s the end-of-the-world shopping bonanza
and your triceps are on special.
Like I could finally afford your eyes.