taking notes
on the Nunuma bush buffalo
at the museum after lunch
I’m apprehended for using a pen
(instead of red ochre, black resin,
or perhaps the civet pelts
used in the diviner’s headdress
just through the doors ahead)
and feel the mischief in me, sharing
the raffish spirit of the creature
who quizzically bears my scrutiny
as I continue his or her portrait
with a borrowed pencil
—Christie
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