The other night I chanced upon an irate caterpillar   He was irate he had a darting face   Crinkled with old forms   Appendage arms spread out fanlike glancing   His string noise boxes   The rest were a howling wolf   Afraid to be left upright against sleeping forte   Calling to the caterpillar   Throughout the time span   Wanting to be fed wanting attention   Wanting waiting full of tension   They don't crowd the spiderlike object   They didn't object at least not many   Just waiting for the next creak    From his aching limbs to reach their brains through   Cup-like objects stuck on the sides of their heads   No-one joked no-one spoke   They became embarrassed and planted contempt   Under their haunches   When the caterpillar rested   His appendages ummed   His appendages arred   But not connecting with   The string noise boxes   And...   They...all just gazed      The other night I chanced upon an irate caterpillar (repeat)