Upoon A Raccoon In Pantaloons

When mischief seeks a form both fair and sly, It chooseth thee, bold rascal, trimmed in gold. Thy velvet’d rump doth swagger ‘gainst the sky, A jester born, though never court-controlled.   Thy maskèd face, half noble, half “I steal,” Doth grin as though thou plottest some delight. Thy clay-head squire attends with silent zeal, A page who knoweth every joke by night.   Thou leap’st upon thy cord with sprightly cheer, As Puck and Feste applaud thy merry pranks; For in thy dance, both folly and veneer Doth whirl like nobles drunk on mead and thanks.   So reign, raccoon, in pantaloons divine— The stage is thine, and all the fools are thine.   📖 Mixed media sculpture of textiles, mummified road kill, and steel