Monday, November 7, 2016

When Sheena Delivers

When Sheena cycles mail to offices
uptown, she spins past gridlock, glides between
commuters, flush beside delivery trucks,
whose drivers spit tobacco—knobby treads
graze tar, sling swill.  She leaps to curbs and weaves
through crowds on sidewalks.  Mobs in lobbies drop
their jaws as girl page hurdles turnstiles, jets
up flights to suites where clerks in cubicles
prepare reports and managers behind
glass walls gulp gin.  While perspiration drips
from Sheena’s Lycra trim, assistants prim
in skirt suits tweak their beaks and sign receipts;    
she winks, and streaks to boulevards, where drones
in cages rap their horns and clutch in vain. 

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