For a Beautiful Girl at the Zoo
by Bob Bradshaw
Standing on a footbridge I watch male swans
dip their heads as you pass.
The giraffe splays his legs, bends
down to get a better look.
Maybe it's your breasts riding under your shirt
like apples being smuggled in,
the wild horses snorting
as you stroll by.
You pause at the Primate House
where the Bonobos
loll in long embraces.
Nearby a howler monkey lets loose
his song of desire.
I know his ache.
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