The Flamingo Thing
(or 'Mirrors and Sex')
 

what is it
about being fooled to desire
the power of crowds?

in the zoos they use mirrors
to get those lonely flamingos
fucking

while to my ceiling
I bolt a bed-sized mirror
which I lie under

baffled by my own culture
burying morals
in the wrinkles of my skin

reflected in the glass
are fruit becoming tiny
and the unspeakable colours

of the sky
that start from somewhere deep
in my chest

but that is all
desire owns its own
and cannot be uttered

in any record of itself
although
there is an almost rainbow

and here
the curtains have been purple
all day
 
 

M.T.C. Cronin

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