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If these were
disparate objects
then their
juxtaposition might be
provocative
but here they share
a commonality, each is
equally out of place,
as in place as
the other.
If the lion
had the man’s wings
then this might
be allegory,
the lion a gryphon,
a mystical creature
as he who is now
Mister Commonplace
gazes out off the bridge
as people have done
ever since the
first tree
fell across
a stream. That
is the thing
about bridges,
wings or
no wings.
The lion
without a cage, the man
within one. Reality
is always
somewhere else. Only
the bridge exists,
hiding inside
the yellow fog
of melancholy.
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The curve
of the jaw-
line is
the motif
that follows
the slightly
misaligned
body
down
past
the breasts
past the eye
of the navel
& thatch-
work triangle
of the crotch
to where
kneebone &
tibia top are
parallel
patterns
above
the final
amputation.
The feet
stand alone.