the chase
300,000 madcap monks
line up in rows
myopics who cannot follow
the treeing of the raccoon
by a pack of wiseacre hounds
the raccoon’s claws draw
molasses from the trunk
a dark glob balancing on its
nose like a circus trick
the monks follow the smell
to the base of the tree
where sits a Spanish violinist
who plays a jaunty reel
the monks begin dancing
the raccoon begins dancing
the tree begins dancing
the hounds circle round
find soft spots in the sticky grass
and settle down to sleep
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