It moves its paws upon concrete savannahs
lush with wild Milky Way wrappers. Ants gather
around the mounds of speckled droppings
while narrow-eyed boys suck on pretzels and watch.
The lion’s eyes, veiled golden freckles
of honey, blink behind oxidized metal bars.
He nudges a lioness from her sleep. Annoyed,
she lowers her head. Children sing “Hakuna Matata”
off-key and the lion handler tosses down
raw chunks of meat, clicking his tongue.
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