the goodyear blimp follows that girl
everywhere.
she'll be driving on l.a. freeways
and behind a rare cloud it'll pop out and say
hey sister.
she wonders if it's a fairy godmother,
a secret spy, or both.
she doesn't mind, she's just suspicious of
her omen—
how some go decades, lifetimes, without
spotting the foreboding zeppelin,
and she sees it every other day.
she thinks she'll eventually confront it &
read it the riot act.
or simply hitch a ride, sailing the skies
with the ángeles,
seeing if she can transfer her helium curse
to another little ant below.