They overrun PBS while nobody's looking on the other side of the glass. In sharkskin suits week after week after week they stomach but never digest William F. Buckley. No water, no tank tops, only these ivory turrets of elephants, cursing the donkeys, shooting the bull. It's 86 degrees outside and 99 percent relative humidity. Singular, plural, they beat up on lost babies and the straggling sick.
Prides go about their business.