Hundreds of black balloons squiggle like tadpoles
Across the lightning-rich sky
--Or sperm.
What have you.
The woman in the white peasant blouse
(With a stylized Aztec jaguar across the back),
And the man with the gold motorbike
That talks when he revs it up
Change seats to watch them struggle to penetrate
The sun-egg shrouded in clouds,
Who, for her part, content in swirling mists
--Lemony sweet like sherbet--
Wonders at this new celestial event,
One of many
Tipped off by recent football celebrations.
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