The Baboons Burned in Their Cage

My family went to Texas.
San Antonio.
My brother and I were born there.

At night, the X and I would sneak out to the River Walk.
We’d have beers in the mugginess.
A bar with a bulldog as their mascot.

The family went to a reptile farm/animal sanctuary.
While everyone wore the albino boa like Britney, I wandered
to where the baboons burned.
Mindy and Mufasa.
Rescues. A lab/circus respectively.

It was a heat lamp. Blew a fuse.
They burned alive in their cage, like many of us,
fingers enmeshed in wires they think we need.

Tonight 6’9” went to a show with some friends.
I was an afterthought.
He doesn’t want me to meet them. Told me so.
That’s a bruise that forty bucks won’t heal.

I’m considering taking naked yoga.
It’s not the nudity that deters me but my lack
of balance and coordination.
The clothing has always been optional in my life.

DH Lawrence observed that he never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
I wonder if he knew Mindy and Mufasa.

I can see their naked, frightened hands pulling on the wire cage.
Their howls going loudly into that bad night.

Three tortoises also perished in the flames.

C Yoder enjoys clever wordplay and the use of words to create deeper meanings. Poetry should capture the human spirit both in its aesthetic essence but also in the clever, human ability to structure and see the cracks/inequalities in that structure. They’ve been published in Chapman University’s Calliope (placing 1st place for fiction in 2003), UW’s Bricolage, Navigational Tangents, and various other online publications. Other hobbies include: growing tomatoes, writing a cookbook, and travel.

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