Who’ll sing a dictionary-song,
full to the chock with definings;
clear boundaries—exact lineage—
established for each proper hero?
Who’ll sing true not just to date,
but nearly to seconds, and city-limit,
excruciating lats. and longs.?
Sing each panettone received,
the little contents of each middling
Easter-basket. Sing to bore,
and exasperate. Sing to anger
straight out of countenance. Sing the
miscellany, ‘til the listening world
must rise in revolt to stone you.
What kind of beastly bird are you?
-2004
