Bear
She says I am a bear today
- hairs bristle, paws twitch.
I could be a good bear,
but apparently I’m unbearable.
I used to be loved by park rangers
and children.
I danced in the circus,
I composed love-poetry for pandas,
but today the mask is slipping.
I tell her: I am a walrus,
look at my moon-cow eyes -
only a walrus can gawk like that,
but she’s just not buying
the whole walrus thing.
Later like a good bear
I hold out my dish as she says:
dinner is ready.
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