I am an animal choking
on repressed nature
chained to the front of a shop
waiting for some owner to come back and collect me
but no one does
Let me be free
Set me into the wilderness
Play Fleet Foxes
and I’ll forage in the forest for snacks and grubs
A worm that I have collected
coils in my stomach
before being expunged magnificently
There are mushrooms and ferns
a badger
And in the distance
a unicorn
a saviour
ready to carry me out of this tunnel of darkness
but no
only a mirage
Don’t worry, it’s only the desert
Don’t worry, you’ll only die
Don’t worry, it’s all your imagination dealing with the situation and conjuring up images of fictional animals of Scotland.
Bad news, there is no unicorn.
It’s just a bloody horse with a cone on its front.
It’s not even that. It’s a dog. Just another dog.
You’re a dog too.
You’re still chained outside the shop.
Go on, howl. I’m sure they’ll hear it.
But no one pays attention to car alarms anymore.
PHILIPPA MANNION 