We didn’t plan it this way
with the animal heads
staring out from on high,
all of our mistakes killt
and nailed up so they could
stare back, as if
pachyderms could talk.
What the fuck do you
think the answer is to
life? Certainly not
poaching in Africa.
But I can tell you, too,
and this is a fact,
that not one of them
was shot. This bar stands
on a private
preserve, and all those
animals died of old age,
lightning strikes.
They won’t nail us
up when we’re dead,
my friend. Hell no,
we’ll burn, in a tall
tall fire, which, if anyone
cares to witness, will
be an episode of honor:
chaotic, weird,
hotter than blood.
Narc in the Maze 