Squirrels in the Trees

Furtively they dance

Spritely they jump

Up there, up there!

And on the ground they

Bury nuts, acorns

And such—I even

Saw one scrunching

Down a mushroom

One day, yes, it did.

 

But up in the trees

Shy, uninhibited

The squirrels are kings.

Mammalian and cute

With their bushy tails,

Marsupial-like and

Keenly aware, they

Are nobody’s fools.

Up there, up there —

 

We ground dwellers

Can only dream and

Imagine the joys of

Squirreldom. And

In profound wonder

Meant only for up-gazing

We primates long to

Live free, die free.

 

Yet we too are squirrels

Dancing ‘mong the trees

Those Celtic trees of

What could-have-been

Remains to be so:

Anglo-Saxon-Jute-men

Labor on the veldt since

Magna Carta days of old,

Through the 1700s docu-

Drama, unto now, we

Clamor and rage against

The Machine, its System

Its subterfuge and the

Misdirection of digital

Police racking and Rand-

Sacking our birthright

 

We also take to the sea

We ransack your own,

—We that you disown—we

Persistent pirates ride,

Against the winds of time,

Winds that pull us and .

From the inner reaches

Of outer space, we watch.

We wait. We play among

The trees, amid the seas,

And upon the plains since

The Peloponnesian War.

 

From inside the attic

Unto the ends of the

Outside world we’re still

Here, you bastard horde!

We purebloods persist!