Three eyes
peer out of the sewer grate
waiting for total darkness
to fall on the benighted town.
They are patient marauders
these masked burglars
so often talked about
in these columns.
To kill time they survey the scene
in the street.
"Just look at that street!"
"Yes, we must be careful
not to fall down into that pothole
over there, that's for sure!"
"Yeah. It's a good thing we are raccoons.
Our portal is steel, not macadam."
"I wonder why the citizens don't become aroused
over the condition of their streets?"
"Actually, I see these local potholes as tokens
of the poor shape America's infra-structure is in,
in general."
"Going to hell in a hand-basket!"
"There must be somebody the people can blame!"
"It may be time for them to go right to the top! They should complain to the Mayor!"
"That's right, like they did when so many leaves were raked into the gutters
and wound up clogging our sewers!"
"Yeah!"
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