The animals seem so sad,
elephants with eyes drooping,
a buck and fawn incapable
of a sudden lurch,
the turkey, even a turkey to his wattle,
prized horses stoically corralled in their stalls
What do they think
as we stare back
at their glassy gazes,
subtle pleas,
or indifferent recognition.
The mute monkey
does not even look our way.
Brethren of mortality
thrust into complex packages of flesh,
they are given
unnatural commands in iron cages,
coaxed to breathe, blink,
eat, sniff, mate,
and especially wait
for casual acknowledgement,
like coins wedged
into a collection folder.
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