A furry sausage,
Out of control,
Body elongated,
Like a stretched vole,
Bouncing around,
Like a slinky on acid,
Whilst sitting transfixed,
Is a rabbit so placid.
The rabbit moves not,
Is frozen, entranced,
By this mockery of,
An extreme belly dance.
It merely sits there,
Suspects nothing is wrong,
It just can't comprehend,
What the hell's going on.
The weasel meanwhile,
Is cute as can be,
As it bounds back and forth,
For the world to see,
Flipping and turning,
It jinks though the air,
Like a slightly unhinged,
(But still good) Fred Astaire.
Within inches it bounds,
In a flash, there's a bite,
A struggle so brief,
Hello rabbit, goodnight.
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