The Fabulous Animal
This animal is us, and had to be. Let us not tire it with capricious rhoods, Bewildering/its darker constancy, Nor taunt it as with head on paws it broods And mourns its double-sexed captivity.
For we, bright hunters in a wilderness, Living on legends of dark gold and fire, Tamed its rebellious blood. The wrench and stress Which buckled with us in uncaged desire Made us half-gods, with power to wreck or bless.
Battered and shackled, it was all we hoped— Still wild with anger and convulsed with lust. Yet, shrined in a gold cage, it lay and moped, Yawned in a corner, scuffed among the dust, Tugged feebly at the bars where it was roped.
Now, a chimera with a broken wing, A hippogryph with foot-rot in its hooves, It is the invalid to whom we bring Purgatives, flowers, drugs. put what this proves
Previous page
