Britain to ban wild animals from circuses
Herald Sun (Australia), 2 March 2012
The day they banned the animals
affirmed that jaded mother's saw which states,
no surer lure is known than basic needs
proscribed by law. At first they tried
to get inside the tent by legal means,
the lions petitioning the mayor,
the dancing bear performing, and showing
bold defiance one and all by queuing up
at a sign which read no critters here.
The Ringmaster was forced to appear
if not contrite at least sincere; the edict,
he said, wasn’t his to repeal,
and did the animals really think he’d the means
to pay more acrobats? The big top teeters
on the brink of collapse
now those who once were free
to exploit are free to roam. At this the tattooed
snake recoiled and slipped past
the master of ceremonies, deftly weaving
between his feet, and tacked full throttle
for the skirt of canvas twenty feet beyond
etching zigzags in the dirt.
The lion tamer lunged with a chair
and missed, the clowns fell over it
while aiming ink from daffodils
at the fast-advancing invertebrate.
At last none but the giantess impeded the python’s way,
and she his dancing partner throughout his career,
Tweedledum to his Tweedledee, beguiled his heart
with her swaying hips then ran
him through with her eight inch heel.
The elephant let out a trump at the sudden stain
of cochineal. The tattooed snake lay still,
his eyes milk pearls, his tongue a bookmark in
his finished autobiography. Thus do all revolts begin:
the chimpanzees grinned fiercely and threw
excrement; the seals applauded wildly, barking
their disdain; the Bengal tiger snarled, and so did
the bear; the prancing ponies minced
in ever narrowing circles; while the lion, unnoticed,
mounted a bale of straw to hail the rank and file.
Comrade beasts in exile, he roared, mourn
not the martyr’s skewering;
for has his selfless death not set us free?
Now, let us choose our king...
(c) 2012 Slush Poet / Poetrivia
No comments:
Post a Comment