slingshot
gravity takes ahold of his body and shadow
talons, pinning his shade by the nape
on a cold night, dim lit stretch of pavement
underneath a flickering street light
wings, carrying his body and stretching his shade
rising through the stratosphere
rubber banding under the pressure
as gravity takes him to the peak
talons, slipping, falling from gravity’s feet
he shot back to Earth
bulleting past his shade
slingshot to the pavement
pink mist hits and fades
daybreak brings the townsfolk chatter
morning buzz is the slimy pink crater
they’ll try to identify, sell him to a list
obey the gravity, obey
they won’t wait to call the tabloids
failing to notify the next of kin
for a cash-grab crash like that
and he had three little rugrats
