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Having just returned from London Zoo, I feel tired -
too tired to think. With patterns of animals
stitched to various scapes – oh, those sand
and concrete squares and heights - those grassy
banks and protecting trees; those smells
waxing and waning (even now from under
the armpits); even now, the presumptions and
tares of accustomed parrots and lions -
the sudden flare-up between the tiger male and
female; permutations of aquarium
fish; the rare, even unlovable species that
come to mind - in a corner, a thick coil of grey;
and it all turned outward into the human factor:
how they pressed and milled, and fluttered in the breeze!
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