portion of the artwork for Carol Everett Adams's poetry

On the New Skyway at the Kansas City Zoo
Carol Everett Adams

Our zoo’s not known for thrill rides but today it’s managed to raise me
to the state of high alert reserved for Disney mountains

although I’ve never had to say Honey, hand me your flip flops before.
I calculate the distance with some concern because I don’t believe

those lions down there would welcome us into the fold like Simba
if we fell, no, I’d drop into Mama lion’s arms where she’d

gently peel my skin like the lid of a strawberry Yoplait cup
while I whimpered Hakuna Matata. It would be nothing like a good movie.

Hopefully my daughter would not just complain as if she didn’t know
her own beauty and carry a stupid book through the village

but would really lean into her run, leave curled swishy lines behind her,
shout brb I’m just going to the well for water!

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 54 | Fall/Winter 2019