THE SUBURBAN
FOX 2
If you get
up early in summer,
You may see
me, lazing
Sunbathing
in the first rays
Of the day.
Lying,
yawning, content, alone
On the lawn
that you thought
That you
rented or even owned,
You probably
thought
It was part
of your home;
But it’s
not,
It’s mine
And I’ve
been living here all the time
Making my
bed
Under your
garden shed.
This whole
street of
Discreet
little Englishperson’s castles
Clenched
tight by suburban arseholes
Is not your
land,
It’s mine
I hunt
across it in my own time,
And you
seldom see me
Unless I
want you to
And I show
myself so you can know clearly
Who is the true
owner of the territory,
My
compliments, that’s me.
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