the calgary zoo
what bits in the legend that arent
on the map, a divergence of lines
& the wrong camera angle. 'You are Here'
beside greenhouse jungle, clinging mass
& crowds, a lovers hand, in the staunch heat
of the butterfly cages. watches as she steps
thru plastic, & i follow, & thin wings
flit quiet thru sudden anticipation,
landing, & perching on flowers that only
compliment colour. as one piece fits
so easily in the next, the humid air
fogs her glasses, but clear in the snap
of still october air. its a dry chill,
& walks the length of the bridge to see
tigers, bears, & poscard the gift shop.
baby warthogs. the rope tiger built
for lone male for reasons the children
are too young to know, & grandparents
fake. the blue water. its a long day
made longer. holds a pose & cleaves
to the skin wall, a membrane. sly eyes
over frayed sculpture, & bored tiger
decorating shore. watches loose birds
& giraffes behind bars, the refuge
of snakes. some things are impossible
to answer. seeks out her hands,
& seeks, hands, at the calgary zoo.
touching once to her back, thru
her sweater, wishing her sweater
not there, or the crowds. the question
eludes us, white sediment tears
on the glass. we are here, but no
further. we have always been here.
the map makes a mess of us.