Lacking all sense of boredom or rage,
Hump-proud, he pisses a wonderful stream,
Which puddles the hot-dry concrete,
And he dreams of the desert
And drools...
The cheetah has no special cynicism
That bitters the beat of her pace
She languidly strolls 'round her jungled partition
At least five hundred times a day
Endless repetition
With spots...
The gibbon holds no hate as he swings
On the limbs of a chain-link tree
Tail-hanging, catching the treats from below
Which the ape-faced onlookers offer and throw
Urging him to perform
His cousins...
The three o'clock heat, beats down on the father
Who carries his boy through the hot parking lot
"Can we come here again?" the son asks his pop
"To look at the wild ones and see what we're not?"
"Sure thing" says daddy, with sweat soaking through
"There's no better place for a kid than the zoo."
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