The Peckham fox and the urban community

An old dog fox was at the grassy edge  
When I sat down upon the back door step  
To smoke my last cigarette of the night.  
'Stay on the grass. Keep off the flower beds'  
I commanded both by voice and gesture.  
 
He sourly acknowledged the boundaries,  
Asserting his territorial rights  
By lifting his leg on as much green  
As he, erratically, could cover.  
 
It was a strain- the urinary flow  
Was thin and shallowly intermittent.  
'You've got prostate problems- they come with age'  
I laughed. With annoyance and defiance  
He turned his rear towards me, splayed his legs  
And shook his testicles repeatedly,  
As if to say: 'I've fathered more offspring  
Than you could manage- you played out eunuch'.  
 
That was Peckham.Respect for boundaries  
Of culture, family, criminal bent  
Always has been and still survives in the  
New diversity. And the tradition  
Of centuries continues that most young  
Of the locale are spawned by just six dads.  
 
He had kept his identity, vulpine  
And personal. He took what was offered  
In the area, conceded a bit  
To custom and tradition yet never  
Surrendered his wild singularity.