Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Bird Feeder (a holiday poem)

My holiday greeting to you dear reader,
A privately-held bird-feeder: Wikipedia
was interrupted atop my bird feeder,

not by hungry specimens of an avian type,
but
rather by tiny Progressives in audible hype,


Why are these tiny dancers so pleased? I asked aloud,
as they danced and pumped their little fists to the clouds,

“We’re fixing health care you dunce!” they indignantly reply,
 
Hear me; I'm reluctant to pry, 
but pry I must and so did I,

"How will your health plan lower our costs?", I ask, 
One Progressive yells back, “Coverage is the only task!”

I replied, "it's still my bird feeder upon which you now dance”

"But you must not have heard Sir, we've left nothing to chance,
for unless you sit atop with us and sing in the right tone,
we'll declare it a public bird feeder and thus one...you-no-longer-own."