Polly*

Gotta parrot on my shoulder
Bright in plumage
And lively in personality
Sitting very near my ear.

All day long he chatters
Often repetitiously
Driving me to distraction.

He’s been there for years.

He squawks
The whole night long
Even in my dreams
And subsists on the most meager
Of rations.

I would pay you, sir

If you would relieve me
Of this exotic blessing.

I crave the company

Of my own thoughts.
Even silence would be
A blessing.

 

But, right now

Polly wants a cracker

So I must run to find one.

There must be a cracker somewhere.

Don’t you need a parrot, sir?
One with bright plumage?


* Poetry deals in pictures and metaphor. Not all parrots are parrots, nor all crackers a cracker.