The Menace Above

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The Bird Gets the Last Word

You stay down there, and I’ll just sit

Up on my perch, whistle and chirp

And warble ’til you throw a fit

Because I’m being such a twerp—

I’ll flap and flutter, cheep and caw

And drive you right out of your tree

Until you want to break the law

And take a shot or two at me—

But I, no matter how you squirm,

Won’t quit my pestering; so far,

I’m winning, you poor lowly worm,

And soon I’ll also strafe your car.
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A Little Bull Session

digital illustrationHow Beauty Contributes to Survival of the Species

A longhorn with a handsome set of horns as curly as they get

Was slightly cowed by what he saw when shown the Long Arm of the Law;

He’d had some hope he was exempt from need to keep his long horns kempt

And polished to a shiny sheen like pearl, his hooves polished to keen,

Dark, perfect handsomeness, the ring hooked in his nose, and everything

In fashion, grand in every way; turns out, he’d missed his class the day

The rules were set out in his youth, and so he lacked this simple truth.

So he was startled when the fuzz pulled him aside and said because

He’d failed to keep in such fine style, he’d have to go to jail awhile.

You, also, may not know these rules, if you too missed time in your school’s

Important seminars, so here I share them with you; do not fear

That cops will catch you; do not dread, but spiff your hooves and horns instead,

And you’ll be free to roam and graze in any pasture, all your days.

Why do I share this? Cattle, kine, or beeves all ought to look as fine

As stud bulls, just in case they meet random policemen on the street,

For at the least—or, maybe, most—they won’t then end up as a illustration