Animal Thing -- by File

-


I’ve heard that on your planet you’ve something we don’t
Where you’ve tolerated cohabitation
Sadly we won’t

While we’ve become known for fare for a cannibal
You’ve made do with a thing called
The animal

We’ve never seen one
But

We’ve heard tell of noises and things in the forest
The spring loaded, metal toothed snare
And spinning bullets

And we’ve seen the bags, jars, boxes and chilled display cabinets
Crates and cages, tanks, mountings and pins

We’re aware of harnesses, bridles, leads, nose-rings and spurs
Electric prods, electric fences, shampoo testing procedures and branding irons

And are in awe of the range of kitchen-alia you’ve contrived
The crusher, the slicer, the mincer, hooks and saws
The tenderizer, the gouger, the sea-salt grinder and skewers
And the deep fat fryer

The mot trouvé of the day is sizzle
And it would be nice to still have something to pet and yet…

Let’s look at the carcass and bone you have sold and now own
Fur coats, breathable leather belts, sofas, shoes and sharp toothed medallions

And we know that in them you saw you
The tentacles, the agility and ability to land on your feet
The tendency to jig on a hot tin roof, cheekily
Lots of sex
But unhygienic and can be taken to water but not made to drink
So free, but so stubborn and loyal
And sometimes, just sometimes, you turn into princes

We realize they provided a semblance of security
For abbateurs, cowboys, and butchers’ families
And for those of the pit organizers, big game (and little) hunters and of taxidermists too

And are mightily impressed with the jobs they do for you
The guards, messengers and porters of packs, bombs and in mines
Testing for gas with their lives while also pulling ploughs and biting drug dealers’ arms

Though it’s a difficult thing for the mind of a cannibal
To understand everything you’ve done with
The animal

We’ve never seen one
But
We can see the human shaped footprint in your lives now they’ve gone.

-