Of Anxious Herds and Royal Threats

by Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb

Anxious primates once again,
we have lost control, our sense
of manipulative advantage.
These spiky little predators
don’t even have a face,
so they steal someone else’s—
your sister’s, your neighbor’s
your dentist’s, the checker’s
who hands you the receipt
for your groceries; foraging
has always been risky business.

Our ancestors, blissfully unaware
of microbes, of virulent viruses,
could at least see larger threats
that plagued them, the primary
forces that threatened existence
back then—the deadly snakes
and menacing mammals
who quietly stalked them,
waiting in shadows
until one vicious moment;
now we exist as herds

in wilderness we can’t dominate,
vulnerable and weaponless, nature
evolving these microscopic masters
to balance out the playing field.
They change our cells’ DNA,
somehow knowing the very core
of genetic modification; even
as we force their tamed viral
kin as slaves toward vaccines,
we cringe down as they turn us
into factories for the crown.