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The Otters And Their Mermaids
Bride and groom matchsticks—
Burning by striking until there are little brush fires
Underneath the mobiles of penny-ante mountains—
And they name them,
As they turn around blazing for a life time—
The very exact things that fill up trailer parks and
Apartment buildings and, sometimes, teepees—
While the beautiful airplanes whisper above them—
Offering things to the moonless atmosphere—
Until the people go out shopping again,
Amassing in the hazards of their amusements,
Bivouacking in the coliseums that fold up eagerly filled
With pledges—
And the blue collared antelope dream of the otters
And their mermaids, until the day disappears underneath
A swing set taller than all of the world.
poem
by
Bret R. Crabrooke
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