..

.
Of Collars and Cellars

Paperwork.
I live it everyday
press my shirt
say please, thank you, you're welcome
politely comes the dollar bill.

Good thing I keep my dragon
locked heavy under chain
deep in the cellar.
What a mess he'd be in the office,
breaking all the furniture
ruining the carpet
generally undermining productivity.

Oh, there'd be some upside, sure,
he being the only honest creature
ever to set foot in the place
the first member of the workforce
I ever looked in the eye, and the first
who ever looked back
unashamed
nowhere to be
none to impress
just a

Yes,
I am He:
gaze upon Me and My glorious scales
at your own peril.

The press, the police
the national guard would all be out
in an hour. The university professors
living on the opinion of others would cry,
don't kill the beast
we must humiliate it first
strip it, skin it, dissect it
for it might not know how great we are.

How much more plain
ignorance becomes
when silhouetted against blinding pride.

No, I could not let my dragon near civility
and the foul triumph of mediocrity;
it is far to bestial for beasts.

But sometimes, when the incantation is right
the poison
the rhythm
the body
he gets free anyway
killing millions.
 

© Shelley Harrison
www.shelleyharrison.com