Oh chipmunk, oh chipmunk

How stolid you seem

Sitting so still ‘pon

My front porch deck beam

You seem free from worry,

Self doubt, and fear

You pause there so naked

Not finding it queer

You’ve no stress from working

At jobs that you hate

Nor suffer from coworkers who

Pontificate

You don’t long for living

In homes far abroad

You don’t stare in mirrors

Hating your bod

Health care and taxes

Don’t clutter your thoughts

You don’t have to vacuum

Clean johns or scrub pots

Your life seems so simple:

Forage feed and snooze

No drama no worries

No fog head from booze

Aside from a predator

Attacking, or two

I think I that I might quite

Prefer to be you.