Is that a chess knight or a rampant Kodiak ?

So far I’ve counted three fedoras, one night cap
and half a dozen sombreros.

Islands of mystery glide relentlessly toward me:
Ice floes around my knees, torn from the rim of the arctic
just there: right below the faucet. And now a pair of polar bears!

Alas, The White Continent shrinks as Sherlock Holmes’ pipe swirls
into an Art Nouveau bathing beauty.

Quick, Quick! What’s needed is a big toe
To forestall the pareidolic maelstrom.




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