_The quick brown fox
jumps over the lazy dog—_
or so we are told to type.
But maybe the fox
is neither quick nor brown;
maybe she has never jumped
a day in her life,
much less _over_ anything.
And maybe the poor dog’s
been maligned all these years;
maybe he is actually
alert, eager, even feisty.
Maybe the _dog_
is quick and brown;
maybe he does all the jumping
over a narrow foxhole
where an exhausted fox
appears lazy only because
she has just given birth
to a litter of kits
who may someday
be quick or brown.
Maybe our lazy fingers
jump from key to key,
conforming too quickly
to whatever we are told.
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