Great Apes

Cindy King

When I watch the sun
rising in my window
I want to surrender,
especially when its light
is of the post-impressionist kind.
I can jump through a hoop,
but I’m no killer whale.
How to bring an etc. to its conclusion:
Split infinitives like firewood?
Dangle modifiers from fishing line?
This is me saying it’s over,
yet the throb of futility
shakes me awake, and 
I’m not quite sure what
that means anymore.
Taxes? Cauliflower? I’ve been
told there’s a flashlight
strong enough to enlighten
even the darkest minds.
It’s possible we’re
not prepared to climb
the mountain of chicken
bones we’ve left behind.  

That said…
All things considered…
Was there ever any question… 

Now it’s time for me
to mention the primates,
their two-inch-long canines,
who we believed were vegetarian
once upon a time.


headshots 007.jpg

Cindy King’s most recent publications include poems in The Sun, Callaloo, North American Review, Cincinnati Review, River Styx, and elsewhere. Her book-length poetry manuscript, Zoonotic, will be published by Tinderbox Editions in 2020, and her chapbook, Easy Street, will be published by Dancing Girl Press in March 2019. She is an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at Dixie State University and Editor of The Southern Quill.