Get Off The Rollercoaster And Look At That Pangolin

“Pay no mind

to metal’s grind,”

I yawped,

“Look thataway!”

Out there, deep

where bramble lay –

scurryin’ hither and yon.

“Look! Look,

‘fore she’s gone!”

Tongue out,

teasin’ termites –

rampant her bliss.

“Boy, I tell ya:

don’t wanna be missin’ this!”

Moon-fingered

she’d have been born.

How, then, that coat

does she adorn?

I ought to ask ere she goes

to scamper behind the bush o’ thorns.

I fail not to keep

with her final amblin’,

then hear your weep

with tears-a-scramblin –

“Worry not,”

I turned and said,

“there’s sure to be

more-a-pangolin!”

Huffing still,

fist in a clench –

said my dear Bill:

“I WANNA GO AGAIN!”

To Be Anything At All