Orca. One LOLiTA

The Miami Aquarium
Concrete and brain dead
The corporate cretins at play
The greatest predatorial soul from the sea
Corralled in a fish pond
For their small brains to see

Gallons of water chlorine galore
The feces of many. Concentrations a war
Of attrition apparent
In what is a dead hole
A bath tub of convenience
Really all poles
apart from the ocean
The true breathing mass
Life forces myriad
Caught in the gas

A cold clamour of tripe
A vast ugly morass
Of shit down the pipe
Forcing great beasts
To be on display
Leaping through hoops
On a warm Summers day
No social reaction
No life force at all
Fed on frozen fishes
Which does appal

In the mind of these beasts
Just frustration and more
Memories of loved ones
Direct from their core
Stomach and digestion aching
Like hell
And the threat of a heart tremor
orca’s know well

Lolita a prisoner from years before
Shackled to faith to a vile shitty gore
In a concentration of urine and poop
Of vomit and bile in a thick violent soup
Her temperature rising
Her nerves just on fire
Conscious but dying
Condition as dire
As ever one struggle to surface and see
Daylight and fresh air
With one’s blood flowing free

The Summer lands beckonj
Her majesty creeps
Her suffering hours
Beguiling in leaps
And in bounds thinking hard of you
In your beautiful black veil
Walking the hills
Hacking the weak
As the blood and shits spills.