Washington Post Headline, September 8, 2016:

 

The Lions of Nairobi National Park Are Escaping to the Suburbs

 

Suburban lions, in a mere two score of years

will regret their move and wallow in nostalgia

for their former state of wildness. On instruments

not yet invented they will play and roar laments,

“Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end

when we hunted and killed instead of sauntering

through supermarket aisles tossing frozen brisket

into carts. In our glory days we stalked our prey

for hundreds of miles, tawny, sleek, and ripped, so fit.”

 

Mark my words, the day will come when the lioness

can’t take it anymore. As she recalls the joy

of killing, chuckling at the way the little boy

runs to his mama when the lioness turns her

hungry gaze on him and lets slip a rumbling growl,

she remembers the taste of blood and crunch of bone

and the soft pleasure of swallowing tender flesh.

she says, “Forget these steaks measured in mere ounces,

hell with political correctness,” and pounces.