A UTOPIAN ZOO
cages will be carried by their captives,
their keys. Upon the signal of morning glow,
for the purpose of catching eyes, everything
in the key of C. All the keepers are also
Every now and then the earth is watered.
lector sits in a very high chair,
words while everyone works. (Just
it used to be done in Tampa.)
Saturday afternoon there’s a party.
who fly are given permits – good
the duration. Uniforms are taboo.
wants to can swim in wilderness,
along a host of underwater paraphernalia.
are rung only on days when they feel like it.
is not obligatory,
anyone can show off his finery;
is not discouraged.
Sunday afternoon there’s a party.
are given a chance to risk bones.
few of the mountains are higher than you’d think.
the news is bad, for instance
the old ones lose their teeth. Swingers
provided with a fine selection of vines.
philosophers peel potatoes twice a week,
no one ever has to do laundry.
are given for picking out lice.
Monday afternoon there’s a party.
eclipses everything stops.
are permitted when the moon is full.
will often find bones of contention
those who insist on living by day.
are settled by arbitration.
resolution is a dance till dawn.
then all sides are too tired to fight.
is always a quick solution.
Tuesday afternoon there’s a party.
and orchards are by the sun.
is done with a perfect exactitude.
principles of a balanced economy, “To each
to his needs,” as someone said,
usually adhered to. Free running water
provided for a long list of uses.
have no privileged position. Everyone
turns being eaten. But not before his time.
Wednesday afternoon there’s a party.
are given a clear field of action.
a crowd will form on the sidelines.
large patch of earth, sprinkled with obstacles,
reserved for the diggers and other denizens
the underground scene. Scratching and licking
common occurrences. Light shows are given
certain seasons. Teachers are trained by
pupils , who don’t know anything either.
Thursday afternoon there’s a party.
the week’s work is done nobody is finished.
that hubbub is dropped like a stone.
sunset the lectors come down from their perches
mingle with poems dropped into the shrubbery.
and singles are welcome to mix.
of the day is passed by gesture.
who are tired will stay at home.
else will head for the hills.
Friday night thank God there’s no party.