Antelopes lope, having lost their zip.

Barracudas bite. I have to say yuck.

Chimpanzees all act the same, as if Xeroxed.

Discuss everything, they are far from wallflowers

eventually stop talking like volcanoes.

Funny has limits in my universe.

Granted they have a fun tempo

hilarious synchronicity,

idiotic rhythms and rhymes.

Jawboning has limits. They finally quit.

Kangaroos hop over; they’re my pals,

lament that I’ve orchestrated

multitudes of other animals to speak nonsense,

not leaving enough time for mischief

of Australian lineage.

Picayune point, I kid

quietly hoping to not jettison,

renegade reverie and inspiration,

satisfied that I’ve hidden

the transgressions of gazelles and giraffes

uncanny in their faults.

Vanity is everywhere,

waltzing unceremoniously and deliberately.

X-rays might reveal my concealed

yawns and would serve to betray

zest that I lost. Thank God for alligators!