Kill Shelter

By Peter Mladinic

I was president of the humane society.

One day with Jean, one of our employees

at the shelter we shared with the City,

hours she worked, or some other thing, 

though somehow I think her hours found us

standing near a time clock when I heard this

fury of bark, screech, yelp, whimper—all

that but something different I’d never heard

before, or since.  I’d heard a bunch of dogs

barking before but this was different.  A dog

was being taken from a room where dogs

were in tiers of cages.  They knew, sure as

we stood down the hall from where they

were, they knew the one leaving was going

to a room where it would be set on a table.

A needle under fur at the back of the neck 

would ease it into oblivion.  How smartly

dressed Jean was, entering the conference

room for an interview.  Now, the cages were

screaming.  Not far from where we stood,

a dog was being killed.

Peter Mladinic’s most recent book of poems, Voices from the Past, is available from Better Than Starbucks Publications.  An animal rights advocate, he lives in Hobbs, New Mexico, United States.