The Ecphorizer

of lions naturally dominates
the village. All the women
dye their hair the color
of spigots and dot extra
nipples on their chests. Men
tease their body fluff
into long, golden manes
and let their nails grow
longer than their teeth. This
is their crest, held high
at the passion play each
spring, the king of beasts
nailed to a hunter's rack
and mourned. The fur-lined
mayor exhorts love, leading
the tourists round the counting
house, coins rolling faster
out of their leather purses than
tears from their swollen eyes.