An Admonition to the Young Men

I was told a story once:
That of an
elephant
raised in
captivity.
Like the others, he was
robust,
stout.
Vivacious–
one thrash of his left foreleg contained within more
vigor
than what the old ones could even
dream of
remembering.


For his imprisonment
round a stake in a
suburban backyard, only the
strongest,
Grade One-Hundred
chains would
suffice.
Next year, perhaps Grade Eighty.
And the next, hauling line–
And the next
And the next
And the next…


Finally the tether by which he was bound and incarcerated
was
no
more than a string of clear
Fishing line–
glinting and
shimmering
in the summer’s heat.
Even the hormonal vice-grip of
the throes of musth
wouldn’t produce in the line so much as a quiver.


The strongest
Control—
is that which is bred from
within.