Free Verse Wind in the corridor

So I was walking down the hallway, low top Chuck Taylors muddy from last night’s
Donna Martin Graduates rally, when I spotted a giraffe that winked at me.

I was going to shake its hoof when it grew shoulder pads, a helmet, and a number 46 on its back.

“What’s this leggy transformation?” I mouthed with my belly button closed.

A dewdrop fairy breakfast burrito peeled off her petals, blushed and scurried down the corridor.

She didn’t fly, she didn’t leap, she didn’t leave a trail of sugar plum treats,
no, she just ran away as fast as her nylons would permit.

I followed her down the rabid holes.  I reached for her pie crust promises, singed with raspberry currant, battle shipped in galactic possibilities.

I dreamed her beauty was walking like the night, that breaking her bones meant a torrent of jelly beans

and when I turned the corner, her mauve melodies and rock candy feet splintered off like a disease,
leaving behind another giraffe that turned into a pair of sneakers with shorts so long

I could mop the court with his defeat.

— yiqi 1 aug 2012 7:52 AM


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