Like a thud in the river, folks did shiver when they all had heard —
that the feathered flock at the loading dock will be no free bird.

Customs will pat it down to make sure that it encompasses all of its eggs
and to make sure that the many tails of epic fails remain tethered to its head.

Oh man! The cards of life are being read… what will they beckon?
If God be God, with the wind and a nod all sins will be reckoned.

The river will be the river. It will swallow up the whole.
And even when it spits one out, it retains its soul.

Me? I’ve got stories that need to be told.
Via wisdom & creativity, I compose familiar gold.

However, I won’t be producing the bird film. Reality allows me to refuse it.
Though I have a feeling The History and Smithsonian Channels will do it.

Kerplunk! It’s the sound of a rock in a quarantined ring.
It’s usually the first sound that we hear before the object sinks.

Spectate
but don’t participate.