Animal Farm

by Ana Vidosavljevic

The fishy fish, smelly and slick,
Wriggling in your hands like a mad toy.
The fat pig, filthy and gross,
Always following the smell of food.
The naughty donkey, stubborn and stupid,
Not even once does it what you order him to do,
The bleating sheep, noisy and wooly,
They seem docile and passive, but often they disobey your commands,
The barking dog, loud and fidgety,
It can’t sit still even for a moment.
The happy canary, so yellow and clamorous.
The white rabbit, always hungry and too docile.
I wonder what it would look like not to have them and live in an apartment on the top floor of a tall building.
The peace would prevail. Persistent and boring.
The stairs and elevators would tire my legs,
And I would get fed up with all those somber tall buildings.
The noise of the city would tear my ears and I would praise my animal farm as the greatest asset.
Well, then, let me be grateful for all the filth, smells, noise, colors of my farm.
And if I forget sometimes how lucky I am, pinch me hard.
Grab a handful of mud and throw it in my face.