Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Parakeet Projector

Grassy mound, the path, straight and long
The city besmirched by that hideous song
December, wet and always dark
The parrot's king of all hyde park

The scene is English right to the hilt
Picnics, dogs and fountains gilt
National hol'days, the loafer's treat
Defiled by the parakeet

Green all over, carrot nose
Scream and whine and on it goes
But visitors seem oblivious to
This squawking, my head in two

Joggers jog and walkers nod
And "Holy shit," and "Oh my God,"
These birds, all a chatter, reveal in me the central matter
I've been working far too long, this isn't such an awful song. 

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