The animal looked up,
From its work,
There’d been a noise,
Something it couldn’t quite catch,
A voice raised in outrage,
Was it French,
It had heard?
But all it could see,
Was peeling wallpaper,
And old filthy paint,
To the horizon,
It sniffed for wildebeest,
Antelope and deer,
But what reached its nose,
Was the bottled smell,
Of air kept trapped,
Until cracks shot through,
And the ground began to shake,
The voices were growing louder,
There was earth underfoot,
Dirt and bones,
It was just when its toes,
It was nylon,
And polyester it found.
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Karis Naomi King