Au Revoir
I follow
the white tip
of a cheetah’s tail.
Set your sights low,
daddy taught me.
Winds blow
hard and dirty
hot sand
hurries the feet.
A procession
of red parasols
winds its way
to the temple.
Coq fights
along the road,
pigs fattened for slaughter.
The cheetah
runs her rough tongue
up my naked calf.
Hold on to the beauty
hold on.