If we can breed man-eating wolves
Into yippy dogs the size of pigeons,
Surely we can take giraffes from
And breed a smaller domesticated version
That can sleep in my laundry room at night,
Peer over the fence at neighbors,
And give me rides to and from class.
Let it dream of roaming the savannah,
Plucking leaves from the tallest tree,
And kicking lions with legs like flagpoles.
Let it long for a world it could never live in,
Where a coyote couldn’t slip into the yard,
And snap its long neck with one bite,
Where a human couldn’t leap on its back
And ride it around like a damn horse,
Where all giraffes weren’t forcibly neutered
For reasons never fully understood.
Where is my mini-giraffe?
Where is it?