You, Sir… are a mermaid

i think,

you Sir,

are a mermaid,

a siren,

a half edged howl

on a city street

next to a sometimes charming Parisian cafe

where espresso is served

with unknown pastries

filled with olives?


you tell me,

when war rages on a big screen

in the sports bar 

across the street 

please Sir,

are you man or beast or angel

or at this point



smeared with lox

out of luck 

a mermaid man

trying to fish his way to happiness

or a fiddler crab blending seas 

into windy stormy frothing cake




now that’s a funny word 

which makes me wonder

if I’m leaving tracks

on your frosting 

and if

when I look back

you will be smiling, or throwing 

plates at me


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