I recall near Manaus an alligator      penned behind wooden slats in a foot of water, barely           room for his plated body-plus-tail.           I imagined each day his golden eyes                sank a little lower.      A lone live chicken hanging from a stout stick           was lowered near his mouth.                One lunge and the chicken was history,                the stick in splinters.      A few feathers floated on the dirty green, oil-stained water;                the alligator hid himself, brooding,                his black heart and mine                     a little blacker.