Six Animal Acrostic Poems
by Henrietta Goodman
Raccoon
Rabid. Or not. In the snow, in dumpsters, in the animal night, you have
A reputation. But who doesn’t wear a mask? On video, you dip
Cotton candy—it dissolves in your hands. I mean paws. I mean hands. Your
Cuteness antithesis in one so wild, so acute. Of course you’re
On guard—you can hear earthworms move in the dirt. But
Oh, I want to touch you, and maybe you want me to, though you are
Not like me, not like me, not like me.
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