Outnumbered our days.
Buzzards and flies on
A road-killed raccoon,
Life on life on life,
Don’t look as placid
As free-range cattle
Grazing the long grass.
The Pañcatantra
Repeatedly says
That meat-eaters and
Grass-eaters don’t mix,
But of course they do.
Everything mixes—
Long grass will grow well
From soil still holding
Buzzard nitrogen,
And that raccoon lived
As an omnivore.
If it lives, it tries
Hard to keep living,
Ingesting what works,
Systems in systems.
Curse is, you want more
Than you’ll get, of course.
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