THE CROW
by: SIPPICAN COTTAGE
Who is to say what laws permit
I take a thing that draws my eye
My interest is my alibi
I travel through the wicked world
My Jolly Roger is unfurled
I have the knack of nicking stuff
It makes it mine oddly enough
The owners have no fixed ideas
Their compost piles my gallerias
They value things that I don't want
I pick their trash like a savant
I drag bits out and hawk the wares
To former owners unawares
Who ooh and aah at my concision
They're unaware of their misprision
The stuff you want is all around
I find it laying on the ground
But when you see me overhead
You wish you had my stuff instead
3 comments:
On the contrary. I have a 12 gauge, and the crows here are: very large, and very shy.
We were afflicted by crows for years, as they desroyed the required-by-law plastic garbage bags at the curb on pickup days. Then came the West Nile virus, and they disappeared. A few years passed -- and now they're making a comeback. Sort of like health care reformers.
Crows be damned.
The ghost of Ogden Nash is turning green with envy.
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