The bane of my suburban
backyard existence is grackles. I don’t recall ever having these greedy,
rapacious bullies visit my feeders in the past, but having discovered them this
time around, they’ve put out the word to all their grackle friends and family,
and they come by here in droves.
It’s not just them
gobbling all the seed; it’s that what they don’t scarf down, they shovel out
onto the ground. They’re not satisfied until the feeder is empty, one way or
another.
So today’s entry for
National; Poetry Month is Ogden Nash’s take on these nasty things.
“The Grackle”
The
grackle's voice is less than mellow,
His heart is black, his eye is yellow,
He bullies more attractive birds
With hoodlum deeds and vulgar words,
And should a human interfere,
Attacks that human in the rear.
I cannot help but deem the grackle
An ornithological debacle.
His heart is black, his eye is yellow,
He bullies more attractive birds
With hoodlum deeds and vulgar words,
And should a human interfere,
Attacks that human in the rear.
I cannot help but deem the grackle
An ornithological debacle.
No comments:
Post a Comment