At the museum of stuffed animals that closes at five,
I was mesmerized by a snake
which forever is swallowing an ostrich egg.
“Stuff a hare, bleach its fur
and stick blue beads were it eyes once were
and you have got a hare that cannot beat the drums,
but last longer than Cynthia’s obese dog” I thought.

When the spell broke
it was after five o’clock,
everyone had gone,
the oak door locked,
it was getting dark
and the wild animals were coming alive
stretching and sniffing the air
groaning and snarling.
Broke my left ankle
when jumping from a window
and know that museums really are houses of horror.