There Was A Bear
I met a bear named James in a forest.
'I have been following you,' he said, 'for the last seventy miles,
Trying to decide whether I am hungry enough to want to eat you.'
'Really?' I replied, with an air of sick-to-deathedness,
'And what did you conclude?'
'That you are repulsive and I would rather eat a snake.'
'Oh. Well, honestly,' I said,
'Do you want me to feel bad?
Do you want me to mourn? To promise to improve?
To pretend? To explain? To present an excuse
That will help you overlook my faults
So that you, James The Bear, might eat me?
Is that what you want James?
You stupid bastard.
You claw handed clot.
You nincompoop, you savage, you ding-bat.
Get on…get lost…go away…you stupid horrible hairy scumbag.'