mutants

I enjoy talking to centaurs and sphinxes and walking totem poles
equipped with surveillance cameras, as much as Linus
and Orpheus were satisfied singing to cabbages, fig trees
and lopsided eggs laid by Thracian birds. I am always happy
to discover their hair in my daily bread. These creatures
spy on humans, follow garbage trucks and notice every smell and broken breath.
They scrutinize, they gaze, they count fallen leaves and wet footprints
and cigarette butts on the pavement and apply specific meanings to their shapes,
meanings charged with who knows what kinky ideas.


{after the comments on behind}