Raccoon by Anne Sexton
Coon, why did you come to this dance with a mask on? Why not the tin man and his rainbow girl? Why not Racine, his hair marcelled down to his chest? Why not come as a stomach digesting its worms? Why you little fellow with your ears at attention and your nose poking up like a microphone? You whig emblem, you woman chaser, who do you dance over the wide lawn tonight clanging the garbage pail like great silver bells?
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