In a museum we find them
where they fell:
ichthyosaurus
with seven dragon whelps
in her belly;
sail-backed stegosaurus,
an armor-plated goon
wielding ratchety paws
and eye-coddling breath.
A pinafore of scales,
the sauropod toddles,
fanning its tail
through the mud
as it vamps
from bayou to sandpile,
teeth big as loaves,
a rosebud for a brain.
Another dips
a gravy-boat head to drink,
while bird-monsters
on shoe-leather wings
snuff the quickness
from a shrew.
Squat lizards spit bile,
and baggy-throated tots
trot after prey
with pipette-like claws.