Animal Planet

It could’ve been the stiff crack
of bone or rapid gunfire
exploding bits of red in the air.

Because only for animals is it
natural to marinate for hours
in postmortem under sun.

The lions rip the gazelles
of themselves. They know
how sweet, the blood is.

Copyright © 2016 by A. H. Jerriod Avant. This poem originally appeared in The Rumpus, Spring 2016. Used with permission of the author.