Poem: Unexpected

Unexpected

The foster parents of iguanas

meet each Sunday at the

stadium to exchange helpful

tips and discuss breeding opportunities

(between parents, between iguanas,

nobody remembers).

On the way home, they stop at

the Beach of Rich Folk, where

everyone claims to be a tourist

A man in bathing suit and

bow tie runs the sand through a

purifier, working the shore in

ten-foot squares

Oh you don’t want to know where

this stuff has been, years and

years of flying poop machines.

Before they put in the

ultraviolet safety dome.

(After work, he drives to the

landfill to hear the screech of

seagulls. It makes him want to

throw a frisbee.)

Sal carries Guido to the

breakers, flips him over and

plays pattycake on his

sandpaper belly. Guido giggles,

in the way that only an

iguana can.

A simulated sunset blossoms

over the dome. Packs of wild

poodles descend the hills in

clouds of chocolate, stopping

at the water to howl in

perfect G-major chords.

Sal sets Guido aright and

feeds him a passing crab.

Okay, he says.

You know what to do.

Guido gallops across the sand.

The poodles turn as one.


From the collection Fields of Satchmo
Photo by MJV