There are flies on your eyeballs
You're no longer there
And they dance in the strands of your wavering hair
Mr. Raccoon, you've a faraway stare

Your countenance tells
You're finally at  peace
Now a home for the others
The flies and the fleas

A small leak from inside
And the forest throng listens
The smile grows wide
Your ventral fur glistens

To beetle and mite
A bountiful feast
A sickening sight
As you bow to the East

**** to the sunset
You've no need for art
Now you dance the minuet
In the forever heart