Rusty iron

beneath moonlit tropic sky

striped cats around my feet

like sharks circling the surfer

in the evening with echoing cricket song

and headlights passing

on the everglades road

while the sheep are going to sleep

as the potbelly pig has already done in his hay bed

and the only presence is the stars

like lonely eyes of memories past

gazing at my barbell like how Atlas held his heaven

on protein shoulders like I hold this weight

and the only thing holding me back

is the freaking equator