Salt Lake Devils

One
black shape
circles
circles wide
the airport
at
Salt
Lake City, Utah. It is a hawk
or an eagle
or some such thing,
some such terrible devil in the
blue sky.
He circles, poignant, god-
like, but still sad
like a burst balloon on a fence,
a penguin preening his oil-stained
feathers,
a useless machine,
like trying to hand a crazy man
a piece of paper.

Indoors,
pregnant women
wait and suck their fingers,
and worry about their husbands
who look like they’ve spent
years
tied to the
sun and stone.

Elsewhere, I know
fire talks in cities,
grapes hang, children
gag
and any
number of
celebrities
are newly airborn.