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The Human Zoo

by Myra Litton

We have been caught by aliens
Who like to imprison homo sapiens.
We are on display like we used to put the animals in Regent’s Park Zoo all day.
We are like in a laboratory even when we go to the lavatory.
We have our little glass cages.
We learn to perform for our masters like the monkeys on the trapeze,
That high-flying act.
To get out we may have to make a pact.
We could be like slaves in the Roman market place,
Convincing bidders we are the genuine best article, not ersatz.
Women wear ankle bracelets, makeshift make-up, pout and giggle
Like the old lap dancers in the gentlemen’s clubs, strut and wiggle,
Trying to attract with their out of the ordinary exoticism,
Trying to titillate with pure eroticism.
Intravenous drips are inserted in our arms; we are forced to make a battery of tests
To see our genus in the galaxy, intravenously.
In the human zoo, the aeitology of any illness is permanently archived,
But we do anything to stay alive.
We could be examples of the Freak Show like in the Victorian Age
Mocked, heckled, bullied, pitied
For transgressions, hopelessly pilloried.
Individual differences are studied by our alien superiors
Working for the shadowy Minister of the Interior:
IQ, reflexes, advanced psychology examining multifarious complexes.
Are you linguistically competent, for your culture, compos mentis?
Every aspect of your fibre assailed by the alien Praying Mantis,
The human zoo ruled by alien doctors, scientists, psychiatrists, psychologists, the professional class
Separated through a thick layer of glass.


Copyright © 2018 by Myra Litton

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