We all like foxes snap and bite at scraps,
the shreds left on the bones, that stink
gnaw our trapped legs--
welcome the sharp shred of our own teeth
the pain we choose--a little breath
perhaps, away
from where we're spitted
with unchosen teeth
We spit and hiss behind our little teeth,
we nip and snap, we spit
We all like little foxes snap and bite
We run, burned from our dens, by dried wheat set alight--
our little holes, our little stinking dens,
our dark and bone filled burrows.
Like little frightened foxes meet our little ends.
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