the calgary zoo

what bits in the legend that arent
on the map, a divergence of lines

& the wrong camera angle. 'You are Here'
beside greenhouse jungle, clinging mass

& crowds, a lovers hand, in the staunch heat
of the butterfly cages. watches as she steps

thru plastic, & i follow, & thin wings
flit quiet thru sudden anticipation,

landing, & perching on flowers that only
compliment colour. as one piece fits

so easily in the next, the humid air
fogs her glasses, but clear in the snap

of still october air. its a dry chill,
& walks the length of the bridge to see

tigers, bears, & postcard the gift shop.
baby warthogs. the rope tiger built

for lone male for reasons the children
are too young to know, & grandparents

fake. the blue water. its a long day
made longer. holds a pose & cleaves

to the skin wall, a membrane. sly eyes
over frayed sculpture, & bored tiger

decorating shore. watches loose birds
& giraffes behind bars, the refuge

of snakes. some things are impossible
to answer. seeks out her hands,

& seeks, hands, at the calgary zoo.
touching once to her back, thru

her sweater, wishing her sweater
not there, or the crowds. the question

eludes us, white sediment tears
on the glass. we are here, but no

further. we have always been here.
the map makes a mess of us.