Wednesday, June 12, 2024

A Karen Chamisso Poem





 Thoughts at the Denfort-Rochereau Metro Stop

The lion prowls in marble
with no lion tamer props
no stool no whip
to lend a civilizing touch
We like our marble lion rampant
but we much prefer
a cage to mediate
our flesh and jaw encounters
of the first kind.
Here the whip is seen
- so why do we so breathlessly wish for
The tumbled stool, the sawdust bloodied?
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