Giraffe

I saw a giraffe once,
at the circus,
under a yellow and orange striped tent,

in a pen, tied to a pole,
just standing, its big black tongue
licking that pole.

And it looked at me,
and I wanted to hide and say
"No.  Not me.  You've got it all wrong.

Not me."
And that giraffe
that looked at me

made me hate myself.
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