The deep structure
Of birds
Is not protolanguage
It is pre reality
Humans
Write
Songs
Birds
Are never wrong
They chirp
About
What belongs
To a
Prebiotic
Reality
Sympathetic
Deistic
Where words
Are majestic
Swords
What Could?
What could
Have been a bird
Hopping in
The grass
Was a leaf
Light as a bird
Born to soar
Through the wind
Without avian
Self direction
Instead
Powers so great
Allowed the man
Viewing this
To create
A mistaken
Bit of lore
Could Mud Halt a Flood?
A stick in the mud
Could halt a flood
If its wood
Withstood
The trick of time
By grabbing slime
Make of it glue
But who knew
This story
Bereft of glory
Became a rhyme
Lost in time
And with it
This silly bit
Of mud
Was a dud
The Trunk
The trunk
Blocks
The core
Of the blaze
But watches
Before us
Cool
Ashes
Still
Lit
But
Dying for us
Timbre of the Feces
Feasting on the timbre
Of the feces
Birds just bop
Behind the deer drop
Teaching us
In nature
Is nurture
And knowledge
A song
We all need
To hear
The Ikon Hangs on the Wall
The Ikon hangs
On the wall
More likely
It’d call
For pangs
Its visage
So stern and fixed
Probably
Transfixed
But has no message
Except
When asked
Mortally
Basked
By a precept
Its appearance
Transmogrifies
Cloudily
Clarifies
Eternal compliance
Let’s Make Sense
Let ‘s make
Sense
For the sake
Of tense
Taste
So dormant
A waste
Most can't
Make
A choice
“Tween steak
Or rice
So smell
Leaps
Directly well
From odorous heaps
Summonsing
Our existence
By savoring
Subsistence
Vision
Fools humanity
With derision
For reality
Among
The senses
It does belong
At broken fences
Hearing
First to go
Sealing
The flow
Where
Languages
Share
Cracked appendages
But touch
Too neglected
Is such
Widely reflected
In times
To be told
As erotic rhymes
Delightfully unfold
So they are
Clock
Aware
Dance tick tock
Though
Another
Exists through
A timeless mother
Proprioception
ESP
Deception
From time free
‘X’ It All
‘X’ it all
I’m on that
Hot bot
Plot
I’ll splat
After I fall
is is never
is is never an ism
spawning schism
peer into a prism
Deeply Avian
The deep structure
Of birds
Is not protolanguage
It is pre reality
Humans
Write
Songs
Birds
Are never wrong
They chirp
About
What belongs
To a
Prebiotic
Reality
Sympathetic
Deistic
Where words
Are majestic
To nerds