The Pink Flamingo                                             

            It sat –
            Well, more accurately, it lay –
            In the middle of our bed

            It was invisible at first
            But I had an inkling that
            I wasn’t dreaming
            When I felt the sharp edge of a long beak or
            Claw-like feet
            As I tried to mould my contours
            To your curves

            Eventually it revealed itself
            In all true colours (mostly pink),
            This fairly massive garden sentinel
            That had landed in our midst
            Without an invitation
            Or a receipt

            It was difficult to get around 

            For example, I remember that 
            We tried to squeeze together
            Between it and the wall
            But there was hardly any room

            And whoever had to butt against it
            Bore the brunt

            It stayed there
            On our bed

            Maybe because it was too heavy
            For either of us to lift
            On our own

            Yeah, it put a little crimp
            Into togetherness

            But at least it didn’t snore


            Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry2014