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 Symmetry, 2014 |