My Human Disguise.
A gibbon will stare at your eyes,
The recognition by an ape
Of an ape, and thus appear wise.
They do not clown, yawn or gape.
They don’t exist to entertain
And seldom become furious.
When they’re bored and incurious
They scatter into their demesne.
It’s said some live entire lives
Without ever touching the ground
Even when a typhoon arrives.
I see them then swinging round,
Dodging or riding the gale
That drowns their ecstatic wail.
