pedestratum

her mangoes grow and the good things also:
she is kind and beautiful and somewhat pedestrian.

yes this marvel this humble two-footed thing
walks on dirt without floating, she leaves
average footprints.

sometimes she trips in puddles. she laments
shallow bubbles (enjoys popping them, hates
how they have to explode) that appear in gas spills:
fragile ramparts—fish scale—iridescent outgrowths

sprouting up from an oil slick. she is pedestrian,
she slips. now she too is covered in viscous—
it is not unattractive, it colors her curves
and makes them stick. on a minefield

she would lose her toes. this might impede her
normal: though she is much more. it takes a certain
commitment to walk on the earth. she shoves her feet
in the seashore: they lay eggs, become turtles.