The Animal Instinct

a poem by Sophie Tsekov

 

The sky breaks open:

A whining like fire works,

A sound of pure agony.

I peek through the curtains.

 

Their lace battered

Like the grasshopper

Whose legs have been torn off

by young boys out for a bit of fun.

 

A bloody mass

Of glory and gore

Sprawled across the grass.

A wailing

 

Sharp as knives,

And then there's silence.

Muzzle twitching,

fur matted.

 

My heart is

The quick beat of an antelope's

Hooves as she runs

From an assailant.

 

And I turn

 

From his gun and his scowl,

From the lifeless dog,

From the screeching cars

Speeding across the shabby highway

 

To the softness

Of my bed.

I burrow deep inside

Wrapping myself

In a cocoon of blankets.

 

The sky has broken open,

But I see no heaven.

 

There is only the scent

Of rotting flesh

Crawling with corpulent

Maggots.