No more.
No more bating breath
hoping the next hammer doesn’t fall too hard;
no more shrinking,
shifting to make room,
shrew-taming the outlier-view.
Shove the small deep into knees
ready to bow to the great.
(Somebody has to do it.)
Take this.
Hang it outside.
Announcement:
Medium. We don’t do that here.
Average has been renounced.
We prefer our dogs large,
our rabbits starved now;
our birds toast,
game half-live.
We pick a side, toss a coin, then run or chase;
Inbetweeners serve as bait.
Alternative:
be the beautiful buried alive with the queen.
Before you breathe
in preparation for your first cry
-while you’re on the threshold
between heaven and earth –
decide whether you’re special enough
to survive 21st century hunting.
Ready?
Scream/die.
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Copyright © 2020 Tebogo Ndlovu
