ISSUE: Winter 2017
The squirrels deny themselves from front and back
and only word into view from the sides when
their outline rejects the coup of geometry.
From the south we delight in the polar symmetry
of their foggy tails cupped by rounded hinds.
North, the nutshell of head lacks
an easy grasp. East is west for us,
their weight by buried muscles held
so that the tail and torso deceive in balance.
What made them thus is unstudied grace
which I unmake and recompose, compelled
to translate experience into coded fuss.
The beast will feed and leave the watchers to maze
their habits and splice contortions into ballets.
