Bat
nocturnal harridan that you are
who is neither a bird nor a mammal
who are you then?
Your ilk in perpetual raid of the forest
Clawing the succulent fruits
I hate you for your habit
Hunters of the sleepy apple
Your wobbing perch
Crab's zigzag maneuvre
As you eat so you stool from the mouth without decorum
Littering the corridors with your entrails
Your dung
A sight sore for diurnal colleagues
I hate your manner of relation
Your arms arm twisting your legs
I guess
Your facing downward continually
A sign of humility?
Or the shy fugitive
Cloaking its aristocract prowess?
When will you shed your bastard toga?
And the double crown on your skull?
Its beagle facing the North and West poles?
Your appellation
Bedeviling our racial totem
Feudal bigot in communal dance festival
Bat,
A nocturnal predator
The night , your prey
The dawn
Your forbidden season
Let the treacherous man
Racing at dawn keep up the tempo
In his front shall he meet Mr. Treachery
Who still asleep at the time of take-off
Mr. Bat wobbling along the dark alley of the firmament
Note the sage's counsel
Thank you for reading Mr. Bat.
