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