Wendy Drexler

Wondering About the Animals on Noah’s Ark

Night-quartered are the sheep.
The sorrow of the sows. All taken

into confinement, skyless stalls
and dark pens, singled out, chosen.

Did they grieve? Did they fear
for themselves or for those left behind?

Did each attend his or her own station,
or pool their separate languages

in a grammar of contraction?
Who curried favor, who grew

dominant, who stepped on toes, who
promised to change, and couldn’t,

or wouldn’t, or didn’t? Who
got angry and kicked the wall?

Who was lulled by hospitality, daily
feeding, and when the gangplank was lowered?

 

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