Pigeon At The Airport
How cheerful is that little pigeon,
although his brain is but a smidgeon;
to fly, he needs no TSA --
he’s luckier than I today.
How cheerful is that little pigeon,
although his brain is but a smidgeon;
to fly, he needs no TSA --
he’s luckier than I today.
Should we be pleased
or we be sad
to have more czars
than Russia had?
Great clouds of pollen fill the breeze
and innocents now cough and sneeze;
from tiny babe to world war vet,
the throat is raw, the eye is wet.
Enough, I say, it’s gone too far --
this nation needs a Pollen Czar.
The lawn is lovely,
green and sleek,
but now I mow it
twice a week.
Quite upside down they lounge in trees
in laid back places like Belize
and seldom do they fret or worry
because they’re never in a hurry:
a sloth who chews a leaf today
could still be chewing it next May.
The nutrients
are rich and rare,
and yet it’s much
like chewing air.
