Other Creatures

The fair is over, it shut down yesterday
The carnival came and went.
There were strong-men and fire-eaters, there was candyfloss and
Guess the weight of the baby
Unicorn which is always heavier than it looks, fiercer than its image always
Smellier than imagination ever allows, and it cries and struggles
When placed in the harness, making the task more determined
The advertised, searched for, highly remunerated unicorn won’t
Look at those who guess on it, who are just using it to win
Some other prize
It has its own dreams, and they belong in grass and sky they
Belong above the trees. It wants to grow wings, and will one day
It feels that as a certain possibility, the weight of its body flailing its hooves
Pedalling as if it could climb clouds
While the guesser in his top hat raises a fist at the audacity
Curses these times that allow
A unicorn to assert its power, express its own purpose and its own volition
Showing disdain for fairground usage and departmental expectations
And brings emptiness instead of entertainment, myth fulfilment
And dares to do what it wants.
It kicks them over, it kicks the dust over,
Makes for the locked gate, takes the leap without
Looking back it kicks the gate wide for all the other creatures.
It snorts and shakes
And tosses its head. While ice-cream faced children and tired mothers
Scream for it
It takes off. And leaves their gaping mouths, the harness hanging empty
The scale at zero, all hands clapped together at prayer o’clock
As if its actual existence was ever in doubt.