Flamingos
They must have imagined themselves, we think.
Bursting on the montage of Miami Vice,
They seem less animal than artifice,
Skinny-legged girls all got up in hot pink.
There is no other gaudiness like theirs.
But to consider one alone is heart-
Breaking. They eye cannot bear them apart.
(Even in plastic, they are sold in pairs.)
And yet they're self-contained as Spanish dancers,
Fully seducing themselves, long necks curled
Fully seducing themselves, long necks curled
Into question marks for which no answers
Are required. They know they're here to be seen,
To look good against tropical blue-green.
Unreal, they stride into their unreal world.
Zebras
Some standing by the pond, calmly sipping.
Bursting onto the grassy plains,
Others seem to need saddle and reins,
Dalmatian horses with spots all dripping.
There is no other mohawk like theirs.
But to think of one sunburned is to think
of a newspaper. The ink
smudging as much as it dares.
And yet they lack a certain grace,
As a horse who at birth was too long stuck
In a stable. Donkey-like, their half-brays
And half-barks echo across the veld.
God's great smithy saw fit to weld
Black bars round this sitting duck.
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