Who loves the warthog? Who threw up a fence
          To guard that frame, that face?
I found him near “Exotic Birds,”
          Electrifying, base —
Prodigal son, whose well-stocked pen
          Was like his Father’s house again.

The Zoo encircled both of us.
          paths curved as his horns had curved:
Well, there are stranger Animals,
          By stranger Loves conserved.

Patrick Spence ‘12, a Classics concentrator living in Currier House, is the Poetry and Fiction Editor of The Ichthus.