Motel Porch Verse

Squirrel and chickadee duet,
Likely accidentally.
It’s more like a shouting match

Between avant-garde poets
From a prior century
When some poems were just silly

And not as careful as now
To code something meaningful
That packs an ethical punch.

Jwek-eh-deh-deh-deh-deh! goes
The Dadaist chickadee.
The squirrel matches and exceeds,

In a furious torrent
Of single-syllable shrieks,
Pure squeaky-toy tommy gun—

Shouty open-mic slams sound
Soft as tenured poets’ tones
Compared to its fusillade.

Maybe they’ve both seen the rat
That’s been running through their tree
To the roof more recently,

Rat loathed equally by dogs
And the owners of dogs, rat
Who comes to dine discreetly

Evenings at the overgrown
Muscadine, picking a fruit,
Eating it delicately,

Then washing its face before
Leaving just as discreetly.
Filthy brute. No poetry.