But what would happen
if one were to discover
a rabbit for one’s own?
Would there be any
mutations? Any un
fortunate deforma
tions in any part
of the body? That
is the real question,
my friend. That is
the sneaky little hor
net question, with
wings and a sting.
And then he produced
a cigarette lighter
from nowhere at all.
Turned his back on the neon
and the incoming cyclone.
Surrendered to the spidertwitch
of sideways thought,
the hiss of steam,
the long grey slide
from one day
to the next.
I swear to God, he said,
I’m not making it up.
You can have all this.
Want to swap?
We waited ‘til
the dry chuckle of bat wings
had died away completely,
and then I declined,
of course.
A handshake is only a handshake
but a kiss
might last until tomorrow.
