Leave My Saint Alone

this incarnation
of bird diversification
gives me purpose
to suppose
that the divine
purrmits me to dine
give him space
or i'll scratch your face

so bipeds
spare the threads
you employ
to make me toy
for my soul
is as old as coal
go stumble
with reason fumble

nature controls you
who
purport an understanding
while we fling
your existence
with felicitous resistance
for we truly live
take, accept and give