Fawning
Jake Hajer

Fawning frumpy;
A little backyard fruit tree
leaning over.
Crumpling pastel
in a cracked trunk
with nic-knack-heirlooms
fungused together and
broken apart, only through
throwing.

Hiding in shadows between
trees like hanging dresses.
Dancing hapless of step
ending when no one
cares, which is to say
glad to have called a cab home.

The band’s drunk
huddled and hoarse.

Twirling for a spinning
room as manipulative
as an accident.

The deer-like animal’s thin legs
distracting spots—

Prancing over as violently
quiet as a still dropping
Bomb—
Eyes lighting up for
A dropped head—

My breaths wiggle
with her into the
underworld of impossibility;

Where things can no longer
be let go, but must be
broken free—

My little darling,
wobbling flowering fawn,
we’re just embarrassment away
from love.

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