Shelter

My name is Ariel.
It means ''Lion of God.''
And I have a big mane of
thick wavy hair like a lion.
There are no wildebeest to
bring down here.
There is a mall--it's designed
after a prison;
This seems logical.
Weekends, the bleating of people
released from their pens.
Fish swimming in circles,
Bumping their noses on glass,
Chasing plastic carrots,
Sniffing each other's assholes
In an endless parade from one
state-sanctioned abatoir to another.
I tried to get on the conveyor belt once
But I was too angular.
The bugle sounds,
The train leaves the station.
The crossing guard blows lies
out his yellow megaphone.
I wander in the scrub with
clipped wing and hobbled leg.
And I'm invisible--
A three-dimensional being in a
two-dimensional landscape.
I turn sideways and I disappear.

David W. Aronson
June, 1999