An owl in the shape of Ben Franklin.
A red-tailed fox with its head in the snow.
We careen into the median
as though it’s an attack against disruptions,
the hoarse croak and shrill whistle
of a continental drift,
the lemming pierced with a talon,
struck in the fatty tissues
of a globally ironic smile.
A long-legged bird shits between the eyes of a buffalo,
breeding us into delusional ozones of sky.