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