Why do cats hate rabbits?
Why do they decapitate and lick their heads?
What did the rabbit do?
Cats are mean, I hate them.

Why are rabbits so cute?
They're fluffy and full of life.
The way they eat makes my heart flutter.
Rabbits are nice, I love them.

My schoolyard pal, a snow-white rabbit.
Decapitated in the corner of its cage.
A lonesome black cat, licking its head.
What a horrendous sight.

I never liked cats.
They make my heart ache.
My only friend was taken away.
Why are cats so mean?

Unconditioned to channeling the inner parody,

Actualizing the adaption of an animal apt for apathy, actively act in atrophy.

The vessel a fractured vapid faculty,

Of exactly the amount of human trapped in how not to be.

Lock and key, the property you deem your thoughts; a metropolis of atrocities.

Listen, don't listen, push and pull the pensive pistons,

Re-position, your decisions, until you got what you'd envisioned.

I was louder once.
A beast with a need to feast,
but now I tamp my rampages.
One too many times I leapt
Over and through the fire
Bounding and barreling
Obnoxiously snarling as I caught
my dreams between my jaws and ripped,
To find their warmth evaporating,
my **** growing cold and sticky
as it would dribble and dry,
sweet and cracked down my breast and forearms.
I learned to pace. To release. To settle.
Not to take too many shots, coax, tease, or purr.
Not to bite, howl, or grin.
Not to get too cozy when I stargaze, tell embarrassing drinking stories, or speak my impressing words.
Not to stand on tables,
Not to shout out of car windows,
Not to dance like the drunken Maynads.
And I am quieter for it.
More intact.
Less alive.
I miss that wild beast.
I feel her gnawing at the cracks in my skin
begging me to don the wolf coat.
And some nights,
When the moon is right
I do.
And if I'm not careful,
Fastidiously luring and caging her
with promises of "next time"
until I've re-sewn my skin
I'm afraid that she'll eclipse me,
Careening through the night
And never returning.
I along with her
Never to return.

They come in dreams,
Some in plain sight;
Some are never clear,
But they are never bluffing.

They show you who you are,
Even more than you know yourself.
Just less than what you've already seen.
But they are who you are.

Power animals are just what they means,
Your source of energy;
Your nature when all that you know;
Simply turned to nothing.

Be it deep in your scars,
Or visible for everyone to see.
Because you will know it from within;
That is what you really are.

-HIY

see the doors they are mouths stretched to feed
the food is an offering for someone missing their plate
it appears fake in this lighting but they promise it is nutritional
our bellies are elephants stomping to shatter fragile and reflective
here of our secretive beasts which wear slobber as bibs
fork we carve our fellow eaters proud of once stalking the other
to feast is to dine violently, lips are teeth, don't let them sink
the chew a rock of nibble stab the grainy flesh
that will be a coffin in the teeth, I am not proud
ventriloquist the disjointed mumble
ahh! slip the chin, obnoxious jaw

The room has movement with an inkling of calmness.
Faces speak at each other, the corners of their mouths skewed upward in smiles and laughter.
Everything has serenity in this cage, even the people.
The orange hues drape the room in mists of dusty ray.
Beneath the ground the exposed ceiling casts reflecting light off the wooden beams.

I watch the fluid surface bubble rising through the lava lamp.
The orange light passing through the cylindrical glass reflects the vivid colors of a green and purple ocean ebbing across the wall.
Scan the room my eyes catch those of another.
A single wink sends me free falling through the looking glass.
The space between the beams above writhe with living organs, and I fall backwards into nothingness.

I blackout.
The eyes flutter open and I'm no longer myself.
I'm trapped.
The elongated glass chrysalis envelops everything that I am.
I breathe.
The air rushes into my lungs through segmented tubes strapped to my face.
I'm paralysed.

This godly creature form is who I truly am, I'm all knowing.
The body somewhat twisted and deformed it feeds constant.
Eyes move but they alone, body frozen in fetal.
I watch the show it fills me and I watch myself in the glitch.
The cubic projection slides the landscape under my human feet as I move.  
Each interaction, each step, each emotion transferred from the mind of the beast, my beast, my true self.
My skin is naked stripped of filament, blue and cold but just cold enough to be cool to the touch.
This form is eternal and yearns for stimulation.
The only way it can do this is to temporarily erase its mind and project it into the great simulation of life.  
Both sides are learning both sides are real.
One knows forever, unending in knowledge and that life is meaningless stimulation.
The other searches hopelessly for the meaning of life but ultimately
ends its inconsequential life cycle.
The cycle's knowledge, emotions, experiences transferred into the mind of the creature as an afternoon snack in an endless day.

I blackout.
The eyes snap open, I've returned to the simulation.
I panic.
The room is not what it was before.
I'm alone in my bed, the lights are on.
Objects are wavy and reality realigns itself.
I've been given a glimpse of what lies beyond our realm.
My life has no answer, I will never be great, I am worthless.
Death means nothing, life means nothing.
I'm trapped in here, this earth, I'm trapped out there, the next.
My life amounts to nothing more than the feeling of a scratched itch.
Just one of many collected experiences moulded in the mind of an eternal.

after robin coste lewis*

the dogs do not have names
so you just call them
with a whistle
they bark still and still and still

they are not animals
they are just humans
that have lived out their lives
and found a new body

the dogs do not speak english
so you bark back
and they look at you,
ears raised

and mouths dry
and dumb, tongues,
rough like sandpaper
and teeth that shine like enamel pins

the dogs do not run
they move like water
muscles like leaves in
autumn

all you need is
an ocean calling
your name, the dogs
can't give you that

the dogs are all you need,
as they run and whisper to
each other
they do not speak english
so you curse each one in tsimshian