Fou! (redux)

His ambition drained in a scruff
of the neck twist
a meager remembrance
of his days spent in a robe

His teeth chattering
he’s on apprenticeship
as ornithologist 
and taxidermist

Fou!
says the Past
inserting its finger
in god knows what

He slogs knee deep
in hummingbird angles
tenuous and blur-fast

Before him shine the bones
of the pitiable Condor of Shiva

He is comforted in the knowledge
that the afflatus was hard won
speaking in tongues
wearing the cloaks of invisibility

His body taut
with a dab
of holy pedantry

Wombat love!
he cries

He walks out of the room
millions of people watching
on their television screens
without the slightest knowledge
of antipodal politics or wombat love

At that at that very instant
you arose
and turned off
your television

Wondering

What I’m Reading:

Brainrot
sounds like what it is, as does

enshittification and global
boiling.

— Jen DeGregorio / “No Isms Except Neologism”