It was not uncommon, I've read, for a town
To draft a bishop -- perhaps a stranger
Who looked or sounded the part.
In light of this, it's not, perhaps, strange that
I keep waking up thinking of a bishop
Who is either an ape, thinks he is an ape
Or has a congregation of apes. Long ago,
My father invented a Brotherhood of Apes
I was three years old and a charter member
We would shamble about and sometimes
Urge the world to help the Brotherhood
In our fight against cleanliness and decency.
It would be just like my fellow apes
To have, after so long, have started
Wandering through my dreams,
Surveying with wide eyes what I've built
On lands still perhaps theirs, leaving behind
A hairy bishop of missionary bent.
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