March 25, 2011

what a scrungy bird,

& with such a sharp
beak! I wonder if it
dreams
of pecking my eyes
out with that dirty
beak.

had it any consciousness,
any thought that was not
instinctual, it would loathe

me, my race. sitting on
its home with too large
cars, and buildings. we
eat burgers all day every day.

but, the bird has no brain;
so, let it not-dream, and
order me another burger.

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