The chickadee flies around a little girls head.
Her hair hangs down her back like a rope.
A blade of grass tied around her braid.
The chickadees cheers for her to sing a story.
She won't turn around to acknowledge
the little token of friendship behind her.
The chickadee combs his claws in her hair.
The ribbon spins down and the party begins.
She stares at the setting sun to make it rise.
Her tank top helps her pretend she's strong.
Summer needs to enter the stage of snow.
Her soul is a bottle where she stores dreams.
All the clouds travel to earth in the winter.
The weight of the world is only winter.
The chickadee is the joy of winter.
There is a blue chickadee
Staring down at me
He is perched above me
To my right
Behind a neon glow worm
And a green ball guy named Ralph
He is unblinking
Relentless in his vigil
The queen of the universe
Did set him there
To keep watch o'er me
Though she will
Take him down from his post
To have him dance for her
His gaze is kindly
This emissary of the queen
When I catch his eye
He reminds me of her magic
And her care for me
Her loyal subject
Did I mention
He's just a cute little blue chickadee
So how could I object
To his watching over me?
We all need a reminder
There is magic everywhere
If only we open our eyes
And take a look.
for your arm
perched on my shoulder
like how a bird perches on it's home.
i want to be a safe place for you
i want to be a home,
not your home
but a home.
you can perch
i can stay put, with you
and we can sit.
so my dear
don't fly away.
I hit a Jack Rabbit going sixty or seventy five,
I turned off the radio,
I was on the road for 18 hours already,
thats when shadows come alive,
I never hit anything before,
never killed anything that big.
When I was 14, I lived in Kansas, Kansas city granted,
but Kansas all the same.
We would go to my friends farm,
he owned enough guns for a small militia,
There were 3 of us, with three scatter killing booms.
We would rake the fields to flush anything out,
we hoped for ducks or quail
(I only pretended too, I wasn't sure then if my balls really dropped)
and we would shoot,
Sometimes for the noise,
other times for the show.
I never killed anything.
On the way back home I saw a little chickadee perched high in a tree,
and he fell.
"Nice one man!"
I ran over, hiding my tears, and buried him.
I got out of there as soon as I could, Kansas that is,
I was stuck at the farm.
Eight years later and I'm still not sure about my balls.
This time I didn't bury him.
I like to think it was male,
for some reason that lessens the pain.
I don't know if I crushed the life out of him quickly,
I imagine it was slow,
toturing myself with every detail as my retribution.
Made a nice thump though.
I could feel his delicate body even through the tire the shocks and the rest of the parts between me and his bloody corpse.
Softer than a speed bump.
Why did Dorothy ever go home.
Chickadee and Neon
Appear to be in love
We noticed yesterday
The way they were looking at each other
They have been staring
Into each others eyes
Since late last evening
Who knows what they did
While we were gone?
They may be different species
One is a multicolored glowworm
The other a blue chickadee
The odds seem to be against them
But true love knows no bounds
Overcomes all obstacles
They're just so cute together
The queen of the universe
Is definitely a great matchmaker
Ain't it beautiful?