The Psychiatrists' Safari Poem by Sheena Blackhall

We are going on safari today to catch psychiatrists.
You must be quick to catch one,
As a tribe they are slippery as a slide in Vladivostok.

Their chemical constitution
Is two thirds sulphur, one third gas and treacle.

They cultivate anonymity under white coats
Their diet is diagnosis
Fed by the slow dissection of egos
Succulent as vol aux vents.

In the human zoo, someone is always outside,
Someone is always in.
We are going on safari today, to capture psychiatrists,
Pied Pipers of brats and brawlers
And mind-states of no fixed abode.