The Village Pet Shop & Charcoal Grill

for Banksy

stop the dolphin
on the sidewalk
blue five feet
coin slot saddle
and red fishnet
the leopard lost
his coat tail swinging
red satin lining
five thousand gold buttons
bone not included
the chameleon wears Louis Vuitton
and Krylon splashes
the bonobo clutches
the remote watching
the discovery channel
monkeys’ procreating
pushing buttons—rewind
fish fillets magnified
in the bowl swimming
in circles
vienna sausages wiggle
and hot dogs snuggle
in the aquarium thirsty
for dripping mustard
the nuggets take a dip
sweet and sour
under supervision
from mother hen
sitting on her scramble.
we step out
seventh ave south
nowhere to eat

Published by Lia Yaranon Hall

My name is Lalla. I was a 14th century poet in Kashmir and worshipped Lord Siva. I died and fell from an evergreen tree in the Pacific Northwest (47° 36? 36? N, 122° 19? 48? W). My Lolo found me in an ivy patch. I spent most of my formative years on the coast of the South China Sea spearing fish until I became a "vegetarian" (but we didn't call ourselves that in those days). Shortly after vowing ahimsa, I moved to New York, unironically, under the guise of "poet" so that I could perform aerial stunts and acrobatics for an underground circus called the.

Leave a comment