1.

Enter that silent stillness,

the cloudy, beautiful realm of shadows,

beams of faint light stir up dust motes,

faraway.

howls strip the sky of stars...

2.

SOFT RUMBLING AS WHEELS CROSS PLANKS.

LILTING VOICE- PRE RECORDED

WHISPERS INTO EARS READY TO RECEIVE

SPILLING OUT THE SAME FACTS.

AGAIN.

AGAIN.

AGAIN.

TAME BEASTS

- OR, CAN THEY STILL TRULY BE CALLED BEASTS?

PREDATORS ROAR ON COMMAND.

CALLED 'CUTE'. 'ADORABLE'.

LOST ALL FEROCITY.

3.

Enter that silent stillness,

the cloudy, sleeping realm.

SET AROUND MINI-RESTAU-

RANTS,

EXORBITANT PRICES,

FOR THE SAFARI'S SAKE

NOT SO BEAUTIFUL AFTER ALL.

NOT SO MYSTICAL AFTER ALL.

4.

the planks settle,

and the rumbles

gradually give up,

the animals,

AREN'T LOOKING ANYMORE.

--By Yue Lin, 'Safari'.

Written in a cafe at the Night Safari.

Apologies for the onslaught of poetry and lack of prose in recent weeks, but I have not had the luxury nor the time to write a good piece of prose that would do either England or the Creative Arts Programme justice. But I assure you they will be posted as soon as is humanely possible. Thank you for your patience.

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