In a sequence of responses
To the absence of true faces,
Even as a monster, one knew
There’s no place for people who look
Too much like monsters to be cast
As honest monsters in this world.
There’s a dragon on the cover.
It’s well drawn. It looks like no one
You know, you’ve ever known. No one
Is a proper monster not one.
The night skies are depauperate
Of humans, of bipeds, of apes,
Of monkeys who call themselves prime,
Of eyed faces of any kind.
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