Flash in the Pan
A Quarterly Posting at Tiny Lights
by Janet Jennings
I do not say what I want to say, am wired to say. I catch the impulse to strike back, inflict equal pain. Together we watch a 600-pound Siberian tiger pace the short range of its cage. Dark stripes disrupt the outline of its body behind bars. More tigers live in captivity than in the wild, we are told, as fortified horse meat is tossed into the cage. The hunt, the hunt, there will be no hunt. Ears flat against its head, the old drums in its blood, the tiger twitches its tail back and forth.
Janet Jennings lives in San Anselmo, California, with her husband and twin daughters. For twenty years she owned and ran Sunspire, a natural candy manufacturing company. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Agni (online), Apalachee Review, Atlanta Review, The Bitter Oleander, Bryant Literary Review, California Quarterly (CQ), Connecticut Review, Limestone, Poet Lore, Runes: A Review Of Poetry, and Sierra Nevada Review, among others.
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