(Southern subspecies)

Dasyurus maculatus maculatus

 

 

To some we’re the polka-dotted red menace;

We are feared for our beliefs, blood sacrifice

Being so out of vogue nowadays, unless you’re

Licensed. We invade chicken coops because they

Are there. You went to the moon once, so you

Know how it feels, to long for the inexplicable.

Our western empire collapsed & we were forced

Into the hills & valleys like a lost tribe retreating

From a glacier’s swollen tongue. We are cuddly

Nosferatus drinking up fear’s salty brew; children

Marvelling at a fresh wound. Our drive is an old

One. To sink our teeth into everything; to spread

Feathers out like tarot cards on night’s dark table.

Who else will upset your order; mess up the room.