OUTERSCAPE

inspired by  “Innerscape” by Lois B. Hayna

Unlike you, I've not seen a great whale

beached and obscene, but know of

seal bashings, that gruesome pastiche

of ice, viscera, blood.

I am more acquainted with zoos,

the slower slaughter.

Patronizing them was requisite

for good parenting.

A circle, being the perfect

shape, is what the perfect

animals traced, from tiger and

lion to elephant and giraffe.

The giraffes troubled me most,

those long spindly legs

creating circles so quickly

in the dust, where no tree grew.

They were forced to worship

bystanders, who held out food

while propped on high ramps.

Of all the confined, birds alone

didn't circle, just fluttered

up and down on weakening wings.

The gorilla, nose to glass,

peered through his own

condensation with great

glistening eyes, not tricked

by the simulated habitat,

sitting like statue, staring.

That's when you suddenly

realized the kids were either sleepy,

must own another stuffed toy

with dry vacant eyes,

or needed more ice cream.

For five years, I had nightmares

about vivisection in the basement

of my perfect house.

Mawkish cries clubbed

my subconscious, leaving

an iron taste taste on my palate.

Then I moved to the imperfection

of a fixer-upper, where defective

walls, a leaky roof tempting rain,

and winds chronically testing drafty windows

freed me.
Copyright Julianza Shavin 2009