i will now fold space

you will bring the catfish, 
and the celebration 
    oh, the piñatas 
    and the dip 
    and the rolled oats 
will spill from your mouth 
into the mouths
of one thousand beaming children. 
    and on the catwalk, 
glaring metal fingers 
    is where you'll want to be. 
in the belly of a screaming 
iron minotaur, 
twisting your shoulders 
and snapping your spine 
into the musky invitation 
    of my open palm.

lael tyler