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Safe landing by Joanne McCarthy

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Safe landing by Joanne McCarthy

Crocodiles lay eggs, EGGS!
the youngest lad cries,
his eyebrows raised so high
I can’t say a word about the origin
of Steigí, the dinosaur who groans
all day long in the toy room

nor can I tell the moon is no lone wolf,
she has kin all over the galaxy,
constellation cousins
and meteorite sisters

because how could I speak
about the Chicxulub Impactor,
that black sheep,
who murdered Steigí’s kind?

How do they come out of the eggs, mam?
With sharp little teeth, I answer. And. Some day we’ll go to Mexico. There’s a hole in the ground waiting for you.