The horse in harness suffers.
He's not feeling up to snuff.
The feeler's sensate but the cook
pronounces lobsters tough.
The chain's too short: the dog's at pains
to reach a sheaf of shade. One half a squirrel's
whirling there, upon the Interstate. That ruff
around the monkey's eye is cancer. Only God's
impervious he's deaf and blind. Be he's
not dumb: the answer for it all, his spokesmen
aren't allowed to come.
© Heather McHugh
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