- The birds! The birds! -
Uncountable the subject pronoun words
give tongue to humbleness, henceforth to speak;
contributing to poetry for birds,
our inspiration nested on their beak!
He's watching leaping sparrows eating bread,
while on his terrace sips green Ceylon chai;
it seems to him that poetry has fled,
and gone with the banditos, bidding "byee".
Alas! The birds have taught us all we know,
encyclopedic, scientific, art...
Cause he would not be 'mong ya apropos,
if poetry was meant to be more smart:
{ Thy Tristan I shall be, divine Izolde;
thus, like a bird of valor, debonair,
I'll fly to thee, because I have been told,
that someday I'll become a billionaire.
Among the birds, oh maid, I picture thee
abducted by banditos (or eloped?)
thus I, compose my poetry to be
reminder of the corns that have not popped.
And thus, envisioning, thy magic curves,
I'll be a triumphant filibustier,
my self-igniting foolish verse, and oeuvres,
will reach (oh, dolly bird) thy round derriere.
And then, if not for other, thus, demand,
my manuscripts will serve a strident cause,
vociferous upon the meadowland,
by the banditos will receive applause. }