The Human

How is the view from the pot that you piss in; is it not the same one that you stew in? What about the clocks you put your faith in or the wasteful space you consume in? How would it taste if that place was ruined? What if you were sailing in the ocean and

The Sloth

The waves in my brain froth Stains from an unnamed broth Interesting things to leave untamed; abstain the bane and taper off Like the joy it brings a moth with haste into the flame and the same relationship to claim with paper and elation of the cloth They all will be engulfed; it’s the tincture

The Eel

It’s too late once you’ve broke the seal Arrange the orange as you peel It remains in strange ornate appeal Rains that brings what one can feel Something from the playback reel Munching lunch, you didn’t have to steal Softly crunch a roll of pure surreal zeal You’re sure you’re really real Enter the water

The Camel

It’s a different kind of animal; you’d like to call a mammal Shows up on the panel Can be quite the handful Be careful with the drivel with a heart drizzled with enamel Don’t do stunts in a slow channel Or do bumps with a nose jammed and cram full of fan bull Two humps

The Raccoon

Chancing fate too late and then too soon Dancing with the bait of fishing loon Gait of something swoon With the weight of nothing’s loom It’s the trait of the wait for something coming soon The junk heap on the moon Or the front teeth of a room The impending doom It lay open to

The Bear

Beware the glare Of what you stare Just there; so unprepared to take the dare So scared to bear the fear without compare, with a mind and skin so bare Fen again; It could happen anywhere Anything can happen if you care Care to spare your worried hair Care to make a beast of something

The Crocodile

Crack it off with a smile Relax a little while Go real slow and make it worthwhile Crook that smile while they look back so vile They always get riled when you shop that aisle “Stop the bile!” Clock that trial As they hurry up and mop that tile A crock of bullshit or more

The Caterpillar

Isn’t that just a killer With the power to bust a pillar A mind fulfiller The kind of feature that you see burst at the finish of the thriller Either way you’re weak first before you can embellish or become the tiller Cowered in the corner or maybe someone else’s dinner More fat for the

The Zebra

Remember when we used to eat the hostas and chopped the concoction and it gave us diarrhea We would play in the cafeteria or stay all day playing turtles in the pizzeria Then we were free huh Remember when you threw the rake over the tree bruh And by mistake it hit Sarah The look

The Owl

It’s never the time to throw in the towel You are the kind who wove the cowl So far, so blind; you drove the dowel Ajar, the trove we strove to trowel Above the sight of those who dove into the fattest bowel Shows the glows of moonlight into the cracks and coves; whip the

The Plant

The ant is no different than the plant But is more important than a human heart transplant We do artful handstands to make grandstands on our bandstand Even when we faceplant We always think it tastes bland and then take the grant Grand take, take take plan Hand and mind of man, prerogatives slant Build

The Hippopotamus

It’s a lot of fuss Being built just like a bus The guilt a beast puts on others; preposterous No fat, just humongous A fungus Among us There are those of us Who would make a fuss Who could make a face that’d embarrass a sourpuss Break a case of our mess and flip the

The Spider

Oh, the spider! Oh how the spider has piqued the desire of many a writer Oh you remember the spider that crept up beside her She’s eating her dinner and the spider fixed to bite her That’s not the plot here; just a divider Attention provider To every letter that you shall deprive her When

The Giraffe

Whenever I see one, I tend to bend for a laugh However, I’ve never met one or crossed it’s path Out where they roam you must bring your carafe If not you’ll find doom, like being marooned with an oar and no raft Or mer-people’s sunken aircraft Better have legs with no equals to ones

The Bat

Drink from the warm living vat With wings on your back Sing to the rat With other things to track Your senses will act as the bugs fly in packs Sing to see that Then go on attack Watch out for the cat Weave through the fences and tug on the unwisely surprised neck fat