I. Haulage

Here are tie-downs for securing the dead,
dry ice, nuclear medicines, cages
full of raging minks or monkeys
that would clamp down on a glove,
transforming it into a handle
you could lift the cage with.

Here are suitcases full of shaved differentials,
bowling balls, ploughshare parts,
bags whose contents give the impression
their owners do squat-thrusts
on the decks of submarines
at Captain Nemo Camps for aspiring
middle management cadre.

Here are Siberian tigers from a zoo in Calgary
being transported to an outdoor game park
in Granby. Here's the pat on the back
(more like a shove) a co-worker gave you
as you bent towards their cage, the roar,
his grin as you sprang backwards.

Here are those returning DC-8s from Acapulco:
the giant sombreros of weekend vaqueros
still tipsy at the baggage carousel,
hand-carved collapsible corner tables
for suburban rumpus rooms
where Mexican hat-dances on a patio
will be enacted till sunup.