Cocorico

Any time you buy anything,

you should buy an extra, in case

you really like it. I am aware

this makes me sound dumb, like

I am a really dumb shopper.

But buried in my shoulder

is a light that swells constantly

from dim to full-on glow and back

and it provides me with endless

knowledge, like a nutritional syrup

for the astronauts whose mania

for leisure’s renowned. Maybe

one day we will be the two

lonely souls forced to sit together

on the Ferris wheel. We will need

a signal. What if when we reach

the top you start humming something

from “The Planets”—then I will know

it’s really you and not some radio DJ

trying to give me another prize.

There are a few things I still

have to tell you, like how women

harvest flowers under unfair

conditions and there are members

of my family with less than

perfect hair. Most importantly,

I must convince you that while

it’s true I have the face of a human,

this does not make me a centaur,

manticore, or great Icelandic king.

I’m sure you’re full of questions,

such as Have you heard we are

surrounded by daffodils of normal

proportions? And all I can tell you

is that yes, we are surrounded,

by daffodils, perhaps, but even

more so we are swimming in an air

that’s been touched here and there

with the kind of dust that, once

lit up, won’t let the swimmers go.