The fox rushes towards the flame
his fire-heart, the one he says
he is passionate about
he marches around
His lab with a mind of own,
albeit not willing to learn,
but does so too – because he cannot avert the words
that the superior repeatedly shoots out
And the fox, being familiar,
shouts the answer,
the answer to not the question-
but meaning of all life alike,
and to his own delight:
his intellect a wandering drama
that has won a plethora of oscars.
His poisonous tune – adores
the chemical awards
he has achieved.
Yet; so much more to his character and soul,
and mind too full to hold.
My peculiar friend; a fox,
who pounces about the world. He mocks
the social contract that we exhibit
but all he really desires is to inhibit
the view, the idea and the bullshit we confine ourselves to.
The charming fox-
a work of art.