Grey concrete slabs & iron bars.
A collection of interesting items.
How should I start my zoo poem?
First verse:
Stalking, foraging, interacting
With other species,
Hunting & mating behaviours
Are eliminated.
Or should I write,
These animals are reduced
For zoos, poetry &
Our entertainment.
Should I begin:
With the glossy media image?
Then this could be a zoo poem:
Regulated feedings.
Breeding regiments.
Animals are closely confined,
Lack privacy,
Are imprisoned.
Have little opportunity
For mental stimulation
Or physical exercise.
Resulting in abnormal
Or self destructive
Behaviour.
But this is not a zoo poem.
It sounds like a complaint.
It sounds more like,
I want to spoil all the fun.
I am not a zoo poet.
I do know that most species
Held captive in zoos,
Are in no immediate danger
Of extinction.
I know that
Non-threatened species
Are merely used as ornaments,
To draw
The visiting crowds
Into the souvenir shops
& kiosks.
But how will this go
In a zoo poem?
Would I get the funding?
Should I write about:
The shrinking gene pool?
The inbreeding defects?
The high mortality rate
Of captive animals?
The lack of genetic diversity?
& finally extinction
From behind the bars?
But I've lapsed into preaching.
I must show not tell.
Please employ me
Next time around.
But again,
I must warn you,
I am not a zoo poet.
I write about:
Confined & frustrated animals.
An insufficient variety of food.
Unnatural food &
Feeding patterns.
Dirty stale water
& animal experimentation.
No this is too obvious.
I'm telling not showing.
I am not a zoo poet.
But please try me again.
How about:
Stereotyped behaviour.
The head rocking,
Pacing & circling,
Self mutilation,
Listlessness, swaying
Diarrhea & emaciation.
Incompatible
& aggressive
Animals housed
Together.
Solitary animals
In groups.
Group animals
Alone.
Visitors throwing things
At animals.
Those dirty, silly, funny,
Lazy animals.
Written about
By zoo poets,
Or sold off to
Research laboratories.
Is this a zoo poem?
Second verse:
Calloused feet & missing hair,
From lying on cement.
Tiny enclosures
Offering little protection
From the weather.
Hang on,
This is not a zoo poem.
Sounds more like a complaint.
But I am not a zoo poet.
Third verse:
These excuses for the wild,
These make-believe animals
In unnatural environments,
Can never become the objects
Of my amusement.
Even with the influx
Of jazz musicians,
Trying the prop up the zoo
With art.
Fourth Verse:
Good for profit,
Good for nothing zoos.
I am
Not a zoo poet.
I will not teach children,
To remain open minded,
About animal psychosis &
Animal confinement.
Zoo poet,
You should lock yourself up,
With the crazy bears
Or the poor old lions,
That were forced to be
Your captive audience.
Zoo poetry, zoo grants
& zoo mentality,
Forced upon them.
We'll see how much
they like you for it.
Fifth verse:
Werribee safari &
Melbourne zoo.
Not africa
Not china,
Not south
America.
But a disgrace &
An embarrassment,
On the outskirts of Melbourne.
The collection mentality,
That has collected
The wild, depleting the wild,
For creative use.
So how should I begin
My zoo poem?
That toothless tiger?
That trampling elephant?
No, I am not a zoo poet.
The plaque on the outside
Of the wire cage,
Teaches me nothing.
Should I begin my poem,
The bored & lonely...?
No, the story is too long,
The animals too many.
I never got the funding.
I am not a zoo poet.
Who will the next one be?
