In The Tiergarten,1933 Poem by Larry Levy

Captive bears, exotic beasts,
sun on rocks, doze in moats.
Other predators storm the streets
in brown shirts and black coats,

lightning on the upper arm,
razors in the teeth and glance.
Underlings, in uniform
step, salute in a trance.

Aristocrats and sages
genuflect to broken crosses.
Jailers landscape tiger cages
with blood-red mosses,

renovating windows and doors
with imperatives for omnivores:
Exit the park! Off the bus—
with the minuscule percent of us.

Offspring of selected breeds—
wiry, well-schooled, pale—
slice weaklings from the herds,
circling until they fail.

Where is their childhood God
now, and does He weep?
Their parents stroll the promenade
at twilight, half-asleep.