I went to the zoo yesterday with my friend Lyda and her son. It was hot. I wrote a poem.

Zoo Poem

1.

In the primate house
tiny tamarins,
no larger than my hand,
move behind glass.

I watch them; and
a gorilla watches
me.

2.

Big cats lie flat,
too hot to move,
except the tiger
prowling and moaning,
“Damn weather!
Damn weather!”

The poem came to me as I was going to sleep last night. I thought of getting up and writing it down, but decided I'd remember it in the morning; and I did.

I am not crazy about this poem. I keep tinkering and being unsatisfied. However, it reminds me of the day and the zoo and Lyda and Mason.