her folks named her caribou after the country they longed to wrap themselves in
pining for any place that requires each other for warmth
born bluer than the earth from a pub's window view on Jupiter, she fought hard for this one
said, "ride slowly there are children playin'
right there past the dog that's weary"
waiting beside a bowl to dine or die
i can not tell if her father passed, or if her lover left and made her cry
could it have been a past acquaintance kept lit by her young heart's light
all i know for sure is someone should hug her real hard
breathing threw it, the way ancestors had
the way all animals do
chemical free and bound by possibility
leather in the mouth tastes like bark in the hand
if her eyes don't burst, her throat just may
hands available, this one will fight back hard
in a space that fills the definition of watching and being watched at once
we all sit and speculate
even caribou knows she doesn't know for sure
her adjacent friend's empty mouth, brain, tea cup
liquids her past people drank with a variety of dinosaur
all i know for sure is caribou is stronger than any one in the joint
& it's not for a career that holds her from feeling
she has been fortunate/unfortunate enough
to live by the blood or brass ingested
if that adds to comfort, well it's not in a scuffle with every other day
caribou; a picture of what each of us remembers
and the leather we will taste again some day soon
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