I'm distracted by the name, and so are you,
By the cacophony of kinkajou.
The fact that it was almost twenty-eight
Makes those who love their language hesitate,
And yet, O kinkajou, O kinkajou,
The problem is I love the rhythm too,
And want to play the drums, or make the sounds.
The amphibrach of kinkajou astounds.
The kinkajou's related to raccoons.
If it were in my garbage, would I sing,
And say go right ahead, the name's the thing?
It's through these words that a poet hones
Her skills. The poet's made to forage too.
I'm right beside you, kinkajou.