The Midnight Penguins
We’re all dryer lint & dry paint these days.
Planes flying west instead of east.
Parchment paper as a metaphor for sex.
Basically, what I’m trying to say is:
We’re desperate, darling.
Don’t try to tell me otherwise.
I’ve calculated the amount of peach fuzz
I’ll need to collect to know the You I never met.
It’s approximately: a lot.
So I’ve tried some side-by-side analyses
Of other flames: Bunsen, Lips, Eternal, those weird Dura-log-things.
Those seem to be the best comparison –
Toxic if consumed by humans & animals but with
80% less hazardous air pollutants.
My lungs love you – my stomach doesn’t.
Or, at least, you’re not sitting right.
Why are we so keen to put stuff in our mouths anyway?
This looks cool. Let me eat it.
I’ve read it’s the same with small cute things. We humans
Have an insatiable desire to “eat” children, puppies,
Those little yellow downy ducklings.
No, I’m serious. Think about it next time you see
A waddling little penguin, waddling along right next to
Another waddling penguin. Two waddling penguins.
Wings inefficient at about 30 degrees of flappage.
Feet flippers padding on the ice pack, rubber-like &
Slappy. Dark suits, earnest beaks.
Don’t you just want to eat them they’re so freaking
Adorable? Maybe wrap them up in parchment,
Penguins en papillote.
Order that on your next flight away from me.
See if it quells your insatiable appetite. Your
Burning, albeit toxic, desire.
Penguins en papillote! Delicious & a little scary. And that ending is a killer.
I really like this, the juxtaposition of eating, environment, and toxic relationship.