I'm sorry I let the animals in.
The rhino, the monkey, the snake.

I was thrilled with that big dumb beast.
When he broke my bed and then my back,
I had to be spoon fed. But I must tell you,
it's true, the horn IS an aphrodesiac.

And the monkey, remember me chattering
about how I squealed and clapped,
while he swung from the chandelier?
How I cried when it shattered on the floor and he scampered away?
Can I really blame the monkey? He knows only the giddy
spin, the glittering shards.

I delighted in sharing the snake's bright scales,
his buzzing tail, the rush to the hospital,
while my arm swelled and the world turned white at the edges.
What I am sorry for is the six months of "healing" I shared with you too.

And I know, after I've shooed them out, and the air is free of their ripe
scent, in that one clear moment, that I should get a dog, a golden retriever.
And you would never again hear me ruminate on how, how such
an animal could turn on me.

Ah. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me.
There is a lion at the door...

Poetry