I imagine I am the paperweight
on her paper-cluttered desk,
the 3-inch gleaming penguin,
blue see-through glass
displaying two miniature penguins
frozen inside

never mind
that she never uses it
to hold down
her windblown thoughts
& poetic correspondence

never mind
that it just sits there,
the flightless fucking thing,
collecting dust
year after fiscal year

a gift someone gave her long ago,
she doesn’t like it
but she doesn’t hate it either
it’s never once served its purpose,
but never mind that

I am the glass penguin paperweight
upon her desk,
and every once in a while
I catch her eye
as she glances down at the fluorescents
reflected in my glossy plumage


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