Sunday, October 8, 2017

gorilla rain

by Elizabeth Kuelbs

he knuckles around his cage around
                   the tub it smells of plastic it smells
of rain that wets bamboo nests
                   somewhere he would eat ants from
his lovers’ and his babies’ faces where
                   he would thunder dirt where he
would tremble forests it smells

real

he climbs into
                   cool wet
he claps splashes stretches
                   his great arms stormwide he
                                      spins he
                                                     spins and spins
                                                                      his own rain and he
                                                     is he is he
                   his eyes on a
somewhere sky

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