Post Morthem

Lion strolls the macadam –
If I didn’t know better,
I’d say Big Cat had been put
to the original alcotest – walking
the white line down the highway –
paws as big as soup tureens
head the size of a brass samovar
shiny brow beneath the mane
not mean – not even hungry now –
so plentiful  is the small game.
Tar of the road a thinnish skin
on a rumbling volcano – ripped apart
with each new burp of baby
earth recovering from man.

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(haunting scene from a fine documentary on the subject)

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