How the Kangaroos Fall in Love

I have no idea

How the kangaroos

Fall in love

There’s never a moment

When they’re falling

I look and they’re in love

Or I look and they’re not

Or they are and then they’re not

And it rotates and revolves

And it’s hard to figure out what’s happening

The ones with children

Love their children, of course

And the ones who box each other

Don’t seem to be very much in love with anybody

Although these are assumptions on my part

I sit in a jeep far back from where they are

And peer through binoculars

Hoping for signs of affection or romance

In my glove compartment

Is a letter from the person I’m supposed to love

With platitudes about me

My bravery, my curiosity

Support and sentiment

And blah blah blah

The letter falls out of the glove compartment

Whenever I go into it

Looking for candies

Or the map back to the hotel
Where I’m staying

The kangaroos won’t get too close to me

Or each other, for that matter,

And I wonder to myself

Are they afraid?

Is it because they’re scared of intimacy

Or do they just not like each other?
Are they anti-social?
Are they foul-tempered?

I should have read some books on them

Before I came here

But I didn’t know what the rule was

About reading other people’s books
When you’re trying to write your own

Wouldn’t that be cheating?

I would never cheat

Granted, I’ve been having sex with someone

Who is not my spouse

And now there’s a pregnancy to worry about

But other than that

I’m very honest

The kangaroos hop along

Like nothing’s wrong with their life

And I envy them

Nothing seems to get under their skin

Aside from when one of their colleagues

Kicks them in the face

And even then, they shrug it off

Most of the time

Probably because of some kangaroo hierarchy

I don’t understand

I’ve never been kicked in the face

By kangaroo or anyone else

But my lover did slap me the other day

When I suggested the pregnancy

Should be terminated

I had no idea I’d been carrying on

With someone religious

And I felt sort of betrayed

Why wouldn’t my lover have told me

That they were religious?
Or maybe they did tell me

But I couldn’t understand them

Because we don’t speak the same language

I’ve made so many mistakes

The world is upside down

Not just on maps

And in glove compartments

But in what you say

And where you end up

And who you should be with

And how you love

And how you can’t love

And how you want to love

And how the kangaroos don’t seem to mind

One way or the other

They go towards the sun

And when the sun goes down

They stop and wait for it to come back

Babies pop out of their pouches—

What are they called?
Jimmy’s?  Joey’s?  Joey’s, right?
Yes, Joey’s

The Joey’s pop out

Or the girls?
Are they called something else?
Jenny’s?
I really should have done more research

Before I started my research

The engine of the jeep purrs

And the low evening heat

Settles in

The kangaroos sit far from each other

And close their eyes

While I unwrap the last candy

From the glove compartment

And read the letter one more time

Hoping that when I reach the end of it

I’ll experience something

I don’t know what I want the something to be

But I’m willing to chase after it

Like the kangaroos chase the sun

I’ll go all around the world

Until the world isn’t just upside down
But I’m upside down with it

And maybe then I’ll be right again

Maybe then I’ll have my falling moment

And fall right into something

Wonderful