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POEMS
SEVERAL MYSTERIES OF THE PLATYPUS
She tries to hide in a swish of wet grass
because she remembers the first man
like a wound, an old scar, a howl
in the hush. Her skin is too tough
for the marketplace. Otherwise,
she would've fallen under a bullet
or knife. She came from an old world,
a prototype, the first chimera
pieced together by a prankish god
that first moment of light
seething from the cave,
an oath written on her back
by the edge of a flood. Before
she slipped from the egg, she knew
a human face could make her heart
explore into a clutch of stars.
