This is not my animal.

I would never leave it

malingering in the yard.

 

How it slinks. How it howls.

It disgusts me, its belly all

fantastic like that. All its

feathers sticking out

like that, silver as

thieves.

 

I do not recognize it, nor

its sovereignty over my

garbage cans or the shed

where I keep broken things.

 

I will not listen, not even if

it crawls up my bedroom wall

at night, calls my name.

 

Or yours.