We old lion tamers
usually cry
at the damnedest of times:
reading the newspaper on the toilet;
watching TV while everyone sleeps
An old lion tamer
can cry looking at the refrigerator
We remember how it was
We don’t want any more paws
“Away loud growls and scary eyes!
Away hurtful incisors,”
once and for all
We move around our houses
as we did in our cages,
backs pressed against bars,
brandishing whips
in case they try to sneak in:
“Back, lion!” we snap
“Back, beast!”
Even when we crack our whips
and shout commands
we are still crying
It’s not easy being a lion tamer
We remember all those times
we were six years old