I’m going to hop on this poem
let it move like a rhino
leather seat worn beyond years
eye of extinct planet
honk its horn contemporarily
tippity galumph.
Poems like a trolley
where we tidy the room
wipe clean our windows
scanning for flowers
and calico trimmings
every sway a day.
Climb aboard this poetic condor
scrunched ensconced in feathers
essential heat throbbing beneath
no longer taloned to the ground
no limit
all space.