Franklin Park Zoo

These many swarms of eyes, zeros,/they emanate from the flare of the peacock/its’ pedigree, neutral, it has a science of floating waste./Its’ heartbeat squares off/a high and mighty wall of humans./As though the aligned themselves by proportion,/grateful for a chance to leave their naves./I recall you were the dynamic one/in this wall of humans/you stood away from everyone near you/those who keep you arrested,/those who were cared about your fate/hen you split from them,/it was a matter of sufferance,/it was the flesh that belongs to children/an alien kind, fleet of foot.

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