From Discipline
His hand is raised and an alarm screams.
The animal is displayed, hung across his lap,
skewered on a shameful spit. An exposure
to absolute authority, which initially
yields the projection of teeth. Snarling
to hide trembling breath. The bark and bite
leans into whimpering when his arm falls.
A prayer for cessation is useless. In this case,
the animal is to have their head stuffed
with folds of linen. A smothering of uncertainty
with the coo: “I do this for you.” Slowly teach
the animal to skin themselves clean,
dig out their bones and present it as repentance
for imperfection. This can spiral to eventual death;
then call it an accident. Throw them into the lake
and ask, “will it sink or float?” The animal is eaten up
and washed ashore when sunlight dies away.
Will you still see a daughter in the corpse
splayed across the rocks? Or will you acknowledge
my flowering fungus growing from her body?