in the limo

holding a glass of super
unleaded on the rocks

he drunk dials a zookeeper.
hello? may I speak

to your zebra? miss equus
quagga, if you please…

he says it’s moments like this
I should remember him by:

glass in hand, as power plants flit by
and we look up at giant casinos

sparkling in the night like
airport runways.

on his tombstone, he promises
to write how much he loses at blackjack.