Still Sane

Tigers Don't Need Tables.

[tigers don't need tables.]

July 21, 1951 - August 11, 2014

. . .

The leftovers of a Tiger are much more than just a ghost. We aren't mists of translucent Casper's any longer - oh, no. We're worshiped. It turns out we big, mighty cats are glorified even after death. In the time which we should be forgotten, neglected and gone - or even in my case - shamed, we are honored. But this honor isn't what a big, mighty cat like I wanted. What I want, if you cared to ask my cherished deceased self, is to be over.

To be gone.

Gone in a place other than heaven or hell - oh, no. Those are just metaphorical conducts for...

...hungry and not hungry.

I'd much rather opt for that grey, foggy place in between Satan and God - that place just above Earth, but just below Mars. It'd seem like it'd be a nice place to rest - rest my bright stripes and heavy claws. But sadly, I was mistaken. This life after death, oh it's not pleasant.

It's alarming.

. . .

I heard the prayers calling from above. They sounded much more appealing then I ever thought they would. They weren't your expected chiming of the bells or gorgeous song of an angel - they were heavy. Very heavy and very brash - like a critic of a play. They told me that my table was ready, but here's the thing.

Tigers don't need tables.

Tigers are Atheists.

And so instead of going to my table, all set and ready with it's meal, I opted for that grey foggy place between.

So, why am I here?

Why am I still kickin' around?

I made my choice. I picked an option. So, how come I still stand here on all four paws - a big cat in a burnt world.

Dante in Hades. A Bengal Tiger in Baghdad.

You didn't think I knew Dante, did you?

And so I continue to walk - worshiped, treasured, and honored. But dead. Dead and atheist, ain't that nice? Though despite this, I am still not Casper - I am a Bengal Tiger. I don't have my table - I don't need it. But it's not the table I need. What I truly need, if you cared to ask my cherished dead self, is to be gone.

"Why am I not gone?"

"Will someone please tell me why I'm not gone from here!?!"

. . .

This was inspired by Robin Williams' performance of an excerpt from Rajiv Joseph's Broadway play, "Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo."