As a teen, I was a big fan of the ’96 adaptation of The Island of Dr. Moreau. I owned it on VHS, back before those were things people purchased as novelties, and watched it on an embarrassingly regular basis. And to think, I used to be a real cinema snoot. Turns out, I was just an idiot.

Here’s a poem.

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Dreams are feral beasts
Caged and tamed, they grow subdued
Becoming like men

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