As for the ingrate blue jay inherently dapper dappled in
Brooks Brothers plumage whose wing wicked resplendent lit
in a freak fir fire involving one rosy-cheeked waddling toddler
two schnockered green parents & the tiniest sparkler in the world
as for that guy who pompous in flight one 4th of July dove
nose first at a beatific swallow as if there in the unfettered night
existed some backwoods design shortcut to heaven feathered
leprechaun leading to a landfill of blinding gold bullion life-
changing light chased & chastened as a sin committed to awaken
misplaced repentance As for consequence best not to ask
about the jay’s final flight eight-foot dumb luck grace a glide
straight into the man- made lake where the ingrate treaded water
like an easy metaphor unburdened as he was wing fired heir
to an airless air breezy lean that screamed walking desire