Ye Perfect Beast

Seen only in glimpses
in tall grass, at night,
a scavenger, bright-eyed and
low-shrugged,
do you dream of Xanadu,
of Bethlehem?
Have you caught wisps of
fine music from tall houses,
and wondered what creatures could
make such noise,
and whether it is for mating or
claiming territory?
Oh, terror of garage and gutter,
do you think us less or greater,
we who must scurry to build and plant and tend and
harvest and maintain and strive and impress and
separate and distinguish, we
who have lost the ways of
scavenging idly,
oh, perfect beast,
can you look down at us,
even from the ground?

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