I, Giraffe Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine apollinaire I, Giraffe, camelopardalis, once dappled, high on mimosa trees, raft and dam this second flood: they hammer feverishly beside me, – Lilliputians with their guys and ropes – tautening an ark against the ever-rising Seine; a dilute version of Gustave Eiffel’s tower emerges like Leviathan: a scaffolding to save or break my neck.Yesterday I lost sensation in my feet but fret not, for this heart has pressure valves large enough to lock down oceans of my blood. Stand proud, my father said, we may be lifers in a zoo but they have made a guddle of this damp city and all the world beyond. Once, he told me how we all began: Giraffa of the order Artiodactyla were trees that moved and got their spots from strolling through the leaves that left their shade on them. He spoke of a creature called ‘savannah’, rich in acacia and a delicious whistling thorn; the resident oxpecker which roamed his person like a daemon 9