by David Radavich
Our raccoon robs in a masterful way.
A careful, charming thievery.
Almost an art, with big
round eyes, fur sleek and tailored,
partying at night outside our patio door,
careful to wash hands thereafter.
A guest one could almost invite.
Too bad the cat-food he savors
belongs to another. Life is sometimes unfair.
This is becoming an ownership world,
with a few taking all and the host left to starve.
Let the clever fellow steal his million
morsels from houses far grander than ours.
I could almost stand the shifty
enterprise: so long as we’re not left
the political dupes.
David Radavich's poetry publications include Slain Species (Court Poetry Press, London), By the Way (Buttonwood Press, 1998), and Great Hits (Pudding House Press, 2000), as well as individual poems in anthologies and magazines. His plays have been performed across the U.S. and abroad, including five Off-Off-Broadway productions. He also enjoys writing essays on poetry, drama, and contemporary issues.
