The Paper Menagerie

Inspired by Ken Liu

Look at me,

and you will see a tiger.

I am wise enough to know

that I’m only a paper tiger,

a part of a paper menagerie

of zodiac animals, stretched and plastered

onto paper lanterns. Look

at our shining, exemplary

displays, immune from

the elements—or so it seems.

We glow from within, fueled

by open flames, only

one strong breeze,

one candle tipping,

or one bad day

away from arson, from this paper

illusion becoming ashes

upon more ashes.

Remember

that tigers were once considered

exotic. Would you pay money to see

me? To see me transform, from paper tiger

to pestilence to bleeding

grandmother?

Would you point, dictating my foreignness?

Or would you point a gun?