2 October 2007 | Vol. 7, No. 3

It had stuff in its mouth

by JIMMY LO

I thought the moose had died

    in the clearing

             where I had stopped

for a tiny breath

         that

mild mannered

      tender

mass

                    slowed

   to its credit

moving its mouth

to match mine

along the overpass—

        but delinquent

    its tail

    in passing

      ,as did I,

with small fissures and breaks

      between

                 portions

          (what your body was:

          a quiet apartment

          where I had once

          stirred pasta)

moose, mouth

of moose, thing.