Bridget in the break room says,
“I’m a dit on a dot,
a bit on a byte,”
and I have to agree,
she’s right.
As for me, it’s
time for flight!
Shiny in the sun,
my two-tone wing tips
pop an acorn.
The tassels toss,
ready for takeoff.
I think it,
feel it,
crouch, then spring!
Sprout feather, beak,
tail and wing,
bing bing bing!
At long, long last,
my enormous bowel movements!
a clean white poot.
My colossal vocabulary!
a tweet, a twitter.
My big brain, a bird brain.
Thorny new toes,
slender as bones,
wrap round a coarse bark branch.
I toss back a fresh beaked bug,
rare back and blow cool
a call\respond jazz riff
to the endless empty sky,
and never ask it why.
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