t-rex graveyard 

under the cvs parking lot
is a prehistoric dream.
as a girl, i walked there barefoot
in patterns around green & brown glass.
felt their foot prints widening beneath.
we have no evidence t-rex buried their dead
but i know they did. gathered 
in circles. trees burning with grief.
how can our words animate a world
before their own existence? even t-rex
had five different ways of saying "kinship."
t-rex language too was knit 
without past or present. the gathered
& the soon to gather. i love most 
the places where only poetry can enter.
here is ancient mourning. here is 
the body of a creature becoming only bone.
i don't know if i want to be a t-rex
but i do know when i sense them 
in the parking lot i can't help but believe
i've made some mistake. here i am 
with plastic bags. bottles of elsewhere.
feet no longer bare. my body nothing but
a femur. ghost rain washing their bodies.
stories of the oldest feathers. 
then, i think, will an animal someday 
sense me & my bones. crave a living room
& mirages of caskets. think to themself
"i could have been a human, but instead
i am this." t-rex had four chambered hearts
the size of pigs. i have a handful of dirt.
t-rex are gathering & gathered & soon
to arrive. dusk falls early because its winter.
i return home. see their shadows
conjured by street lights.

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