The sunrays spangled
through the human debris
plastic
ensared on the branches of a tree
flailing in the breeze
playing trickery in the shadows
make it appear like flights of fancy
but then a Blackbird
dino skitters along the fence
It makes me imagine a velociraptor
and his shadow plays on my wall
and I think that’s what I’m missing
something primal, primitive
My heart beats for it
though overcome by the fear of it
but the fear itself uncivilising me
Thus, wild I am becoming
wild
Lions.
Boys minds grow
With wild exuberance
As their eyes lay their claim
On stretched out backs
The women they shall never tame
For men are the domesticated
Not the women with whom they mated
After all that time, he waited
He finds himself frustratingly sated
Though wild blood still runs
Pooled in his guns
Waiting till the trigger is pulled
And there lays a lion
Who shall not be culled.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 