THE HUMAN ZOO
ndatt@rogers.com
If you’re not in the wild and hear awhoo
You may be in or in the vicinity of a Zoo
Where animals are kept in cages
As they rant and rave in stages
Man is so cruel and selfish that he would
Hold wretched animals for their own good
They say they are so happy that they
Pace in their tiny cages every day
Not longing for the old wild
They are so happy like a child
Rubbing themselves against the iron bars
Until they bleed or become sick with scars
They are so happy that they copulate
With their water bowl or plate
Forgetting what a mate look like
They are so happy that they take a hike
Cower trembling in a corner to hide
From man the watcher ready to chide
Or sleep to dream and dream to sleep
Of the open and the wild and the deep
Suppose the tables are turned and say
Man are then put in cages for display
I am sure they would be a wreck
Yet around the world if you check
Zoos are many a city’s pride and joy
Put for the soul purpose like a toy
For the feast of its citizens’ eyes
To be confined is to lose your ties
Isn’t that what is done to criminals
Amidst our perpetual daily denials
Yet we spend so much on zoos and less
On our handicapped, sick and homeless
Man is slowly using the entire ruse
In their own manmade human zoos
Man originally was a hunter
And woman the food gatherer
Then he was busy trying to stay alive
Now he has learnt to farm and survive
He thought he was happy and glad
And then he ceased to be a nomad
He sought newer pastures of green
And moved to places he’d never seen
He had developed towering immunity
And sharpened his hunting ingenuity
By staying in one place year after year
Living near his filth around his lair
He developed diseases and lethargy
He acquired collateral damage now
Some things he just can’t disallow
Dumb and obedient in his chore
He is not lean and mean anymore
He is not swift and agile like the monkey
And the women’ve became fat and lazy
Then came many new technology
Then he got modern machinery
The final nail ending all his chances
And his wife got all the conveniences
And soon there were more leisure times
But not to teach his kids nursery rhymes
He has lost all the keen senses
He could not sit on the fences
He could’ve when he was a hunter
He;s now become a time consumer
The executive instead of stripping down
His expensive car now goes downtown
And after weed, wine and a party
He now strips down his secretary
The kid who used to throw a ball
Is bored and now have more gall
Now throws it at a glass window
To get attention and more show
A wife now has time to mind a pet
Putting her in a different mindset
And now instead of stroking the dog
She watches soap, snores like a log
Fantasize with stars like every film fare fan
With extra time now to stroke the milkman
Honey dropping from her lips
Doing nothing now she gossips
Her life is meaningless
Her tiny head in a mess
She doesn’t have to rub and scrub
As her kids sing rub-a-dub-dub
She watches her clothes dry spin
As she gossips and trying to fit in
She watches as she pause
Creating mischief because
Her life is boring and she’s angry
At times would work on her body
Plucking out her eyebrow
Getting as fat like a cow
Enlarge her busts and breasts
Taking boring endless tests
Tighten her waist and hips
Painting and thinning her lips
Starve herself to death in mink
Then finally goes to a shrink
To sit on his couch and crows
As she tells him all her throes
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And as usual commerce takes a bite
Cashing in on her weakness for spite
Using music, fashion and sex
As the director cries Next!
To sell their unhealthy product
Using whatever to conduct
Roping women like a yo-yo
As the spectators cry for mo‘
Stressing on legs, face and shape
Just to beautify the landscape
Shunning all those who can’t cope
Some turning to the end of the rope
Can’t fit in and have to exit
Then it is not funny a bit
Enter anorexia nervosa
Trying to look younger
All this havoc only makes
Pains, ulcers and headaches
And the pharmacists laughing
After their darn heft billing
All the way to the banks
Not even saying Thanks
Man too has become bored
Like cancer, he can’t be cured
He too has lost all his hunting skill
His meat now comes from Knob Hill
His apparel can be bought at Sears
Not from an animal he spears
He doesn’t walk he drives
Can’t hear him when he arrives
To his job back into his garage
As his kids think he is a sage
But he is a very worried man
Relaxes with a glass in his han’
As his wife prepares dinner
From a store bought container
Or she slaps up shake and bakes
Just for the kids and his sakes
Don’t ever think that the high
And the lowbrows don’t cry
Losing their useless faculties
Doing boring jobs in factories
ndatt@rogers.com