A Dirty Bird
A Dirty
Bird
The Ruddy-throated Blunder
Nests messily in the rafters,
Swooping in to make it’s raucous squawk:
“Aspersion, aspersion!” it screams, “Aspersion!”
So loudly that even the Carmine Thrashers nearby
Find their feathers ruffled,
And the Blue-crested Persisters
Spread their wide wings,
Crowing sternly until the harpy subsides.
The Ruddy-throated Blunder
Scratches at sullied grounds,
Searching for sour nuggets
To be presented as lure,
Seeking mate or mark
To screech alongside her,
And fill the assembly with noise
Without substance or sequence,
Seeking little result or production.
The Ruddy-throated Blunder
Flies and flails at the walls of decorum,
Shrilly croaking invective and epithet,
Excreting freely and often
In its own abode and haunts
Soiling the grounds where others tread
For it must distract from its old foulings:
Corruptions it must try to escape,
Lest it be caught and caged…
Once and for all.
Cliff Lake 4/27/2023
Copyright © Clifford Lake
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