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"Bird With Attitude" (by Joe DiMino)

I best explain,
As he/she walks the path
On the side of the house
Toward my door;
From my window
Peering carefully out
I can almost read
The irate fowl’s mind
Crying “Foul!
Come on out—
You bald-headed old bastard
No eagle in my book;
Have the guts to meet me
Beak to face—you wingless freak!”

It all started over cat-food,
A plate I leave on the back patio—
Contents of which
The old crow obviously
Took a liking to—
Enough so
To invite the rest of the birds in the neighborhood
To explore such fine cuisine
A kindly human
Replenishes out of seeming
Unlimited abundance—

Quite honestly, it’s a strain on my budget to feed
The couple stray felines
Who frequent my unlicensed kitchen,
But when every bird in the neighborhood
Shows up to chow-down as well
My cupboard moans—

So I took to banging on the back window…
Which the cackle of diners
Soon thought the enrichment of entertainment;
Then I would sneak to the corner
Of the house, and spring at them
From out of nowhere
Which the cats found quite amusing as well,
So much so
They seemed too weak with laughter
To help—
Finally I covered the plate with a piece
Of leftover tile
From a resent home renovation—

Well—I guess for the crow
That was last straw;
He/she/it is now at my
Door—not sitting above it
As Poe’s raven
But nonetheless haunting
And chilling—

Frankly—I’m petrified….

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