No Cute Pets
Animal Farm

Cats fall from the sky
Thunder cries softly,

juxtaposed to heavy, drunken
howling of a camp of canines,

the dark flesh of night covering their fiery
crazed eyes

Cows and horses restlessly walk
to empty troughs long abandoned by

pigs, land-bound scavengers whose vocal leaders
stood on shaky soap boxes recruiting

members to the rebellious fold
with the slogan, “the chickens have come
home to roost.”

Copyright 2013, Elvis Alves

Elvis Alves lives and works in New York City. His poetry has appeared in Sojourners, Tongues of the Ocean, Huizache, and other journals.

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