Zoo Trip. One Ticket.

I went to the zoo and immediately forgot what the plan was.

I thought of that scene from Watchmen. You're not locked in here with me, though. I'm locked in here with me. I'm the strange enclosure.

Coming up, I drank some water. Sat on a bench. Watched kids watch gorillas watch people. Picnic of children and mothers in dresses pick nits from the fur of the family tree.

I met the reptile brain and had a staring contest. Lost. I wrestled the liger.

Existed very hard, but never enough. Stripes become bars. Bars become barcodes.

Looked into the eyes of an uncle. It occurred that nature doesn't do "masks." Wondered if other mammals can be autistic, wondered why males have nipples. Caught myself touching my own chest on a sunny day in front of strangers.

In the sky, the few clouds slowly coalesced into a lemur deity, exciting the chakras of the gathered choir. A hymn for harmony.

No one is a stranger what has a heartbeat. Cycles of feeding times, sunlight, and sleep.

I learned the elephant's secret name.

At the leaving through the gate, I blew a kiss to the alligators, beavers, lions, chimps, elephants, giraffes, gorillas, hippos, kangaroos, koalas, lemurs, ostriches, pandas, rhinos, tigers, zebras, zoohands.

Flapping just out of reach, unknowable bird ideas. Maybe we're evolution's appendix.

Do you see what I see? You can see what I saw. I made a map of my Zoo Trip for you.

Zoo Trip Katty Pulsar Daydream Misfit