as Mr. Magoo, just a Joey
hiding in her kangaroo pouch. It's warm
inside. So, I don't venture out. I couldn't
see the lion coming. I danced to

the sound of a hummingbird humming.
Danger dressed in an Armani suit
and vest. Rode in a black satin
stallion, drinking his posse up

from a gallon. So near-sighted
I tripped over a cloud looking like
a castle from the ground. But my feet were
not in my shoes. My feet were dangling
in a sky of blues. Sweeping me up

in gale, tossing me in a garbage
pail full of rain, that today I lie in. Drinking
the pain. And in this darkness, I see the lion.
But I don't run. And I'm not hiding in the sun.