Like so many pale ghosts, trapped in glass,
in stasis. Their dull eyes reflecting the
cold light of fluorescent tubes, through
varying hues: yellow, amber, brown. Jars
stacked row after row, shelf upon shelf in
cupboard after cupboard, floor upon floor.
Here in this ark of the dead, all life is
preserved in a sea of alcohol and
labelled with the holy trinity of
zoology: family, genus, species.