Tiger

THIS is the tiger god,
Weary, weary and bored;
The glowing august head
Heavy with latent fire.

The cold yellow stare
Looks into nowhere
Crossed by a steel bar
I tremble with desire

To penetrate this prison,
To break the rigid screen
And rouse that roar again
And that fabulous purr.

His heavy paws hang down;
He yawns a long slow yawn.
Never shall we be one,
I and, dear God, the tiger.

The whole world breaks in two
Here in the city zoo,
The bars we both look through
My anguish, his despair.

The pacing tiger seen
behind eyes or in dream,
The ghost in the machine,
Dear God, who’s prisoner.”