Captive of Capitalism

Photo by Vic B on

Crows dive odd angles into morning —
they add oblique hints
and signs to a clueless suburb-sky.
As a backdrop, the tall metallic smoke-stack
cigarettes oxygen-fresh air with its thin, industrious taint.
Absent-minded in the rhythm of her schemes,
a jogger running late
through Sunday’s quieter park
double-takes at what she sees loom largely overhead:
a giant shark
hangs ravenous in mid-air, eyeing its prey — twenty pink squid
which dance in a line to the sun.
Streaming with light, a lithe-benign mermaid —
breasts discreetly capped with matching scallop shells —
glides gently down to soothe her baffled state:
Hello — we are kites. Today,
with the wind, we have borrowed you blue
for the sea. On behalf of us all,
I invite you to quit this element you strand in
for ours
. . . Standing on tiptoe,
the jogger stares up widely at the depths
trying, for a change,
this novel exercise: she’s simply
SWIMMING her mind with wonder.

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