Maybe it's a reaction to too many literature classes, but I'm not one to try to figure out a poem. Or perhaps it's because I'm so bad at it. After reading this several times, I think of the impossibility of knowing what is happening from species to species. I think of the famous Wittgenstein statement that if a lion could talk, we still would not be able to understand what it is saying. Does a cat dream of being a tiger?
I'm prepared to accept my reading may not be what is intended. I can still enjoy the way the poem works on the screen. The bit about abhorring French and preferring "consonants that clip/each grey ending/from its flight" and reading the aperture through the whiskers.
I will read it more because I enjoy reading it and may have a moment of deeper realization.
Best
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