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.