Long Necked Dreams
by Kyla Houbolt, 3.24am July 10th 2021

I must tell about
the pink flamingos
not the live ones
and not Audrey Hepburn
at a small cafe table,
and not the rusty chains
piled mysteriously next to them
-- nesting material perhaps? --
because they gather there
beside the tracks
behind that scabby brick building
and stand quite patiently
just like they always did in their
previous lives, before
they retired, possibly to breed
bathtub ducklets, hatched from
plastic eggs, but always dreaming,
dreaming of Audrey Hepburn
and planning what they will order
when they meet her there
at that little round table
in the movie cafe