Daniel Zimmerman

entertaining angels

you never know until later.
no strut, no swagger, no wings.
just something odd about the conversation,
a gyroscope that never wavers.

fireflies in daylight, faintly aglow
when clouds obscure the sun.
their lingo only slightly out of date
or minting tomorrow’s slang

often in the same sentence. we fail to see them
as stylistic imperfections, our idiolects
deafening us, as if only others have accents.
these strangers don’t quite sound

from around here. we make
allowances, but don’t introduce them
to friends. they talk the shirt off your back
& walk away naked.

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