I froze in the act of punching a clown.
The bear took in the scene
in a single, torpid glance:
the candle, guttering on the counterpane,
the chalkboard with the list of crimes,
the discarded Rolo wrappers.
Have you ever seen a bear blink?
My friend, it is a most terrible, miraculous sight.
I think I have the wrong chalet,
it seemed to say,
then turned, with the great dignity
available to its kind,
and lumbered impreriously away.
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