There was a man up a pole,

Who swayed and dangled a dance,

agitating pigeons and sparrows,

how thoughtless,



Diligent birds eyeballed this pendulum

Chirping a stupendous chorus.

The ultra violet

Emptied tool belt

Erect hair

Dripping spittle onto the hood of his Renault van

Maybe four hours past

Spectators diversified,

Two horses

Six voles

Ten rabbits

One fox

And still the chattering birds.

By now the man was fatigued

And the wind had died

And all that could be heard down the green country lane

Was the sizzling skin of the man’s skin being fried.

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