It’s bed-time, my tiny Jurassic chaos,
and I scoop you up in your floofy
jimjams, a terrible lizard, dotted
all over with rainbow tyrannosaurs
and stubby stegosaurs, for every night is another
hot hint at extinction, a shutting down,
and then the morning burps awake,
fresh as bubble bath, and love’s joke
keeps delivering its warm laugh,
gurgling its fleshy inheritance as
I take you in my ridiculous arms like a flumpy
gigantosaurus and cave you in my breakfast
hunger, gobble you up (or tell you I will,
in mock-terror); ennobled, adorned,
evolution’s pause on its way
toward birdhood and feathered heat.