The slow loris dances
With the same strange detachment that
A philosopher argues, nonchalantly, non-chaleur,

Without heat, this pace, never an illogical leap
But always capable of
A quick rhetorical twist:

He says, We are not here to disturb the trees,
Only to win them over
With complete understanding.

The slow loris asks these questions:
Why do we need a resurrection?
Does the fruit fall or leap from the trees?

When I am sleeping,
Who are you, without my attention?
He answers,

The body is a fruit you can’t peel,
Life is energy organized
Into stillness.

Mostly stillness. The night room,
The fruit bats, the liquid giraffe,
The siamungs, the orangutans

Which are dangerous. The zoo,
Is not about hunger, but
About heat.