No, no, no. The bird was saying pample mousse, pample mousse.It wanted you to have grapefruit for breakfast.
A cereal offender...(I wonder why it told me to go for the box trifecta breakfast?)
I would have thought a parlay would have been the bet for bloggers.Still, a 'parlay formula' sounds like a breakfast for kids being taught to speak.
... or ... Yellow moon, yellow moon,why you keep peeping in my window?Do you know something I don't know? etc.Now if I had such a soulful bird warbling Neville Brothers' tunes through my bedroom window each morning, I'd be quite a satisfied man. (I wouldn't rely on it for racing tips though.)
So much depends on the precise apprehension of intended meaning. Maybe birds are incapable of negative utterance, or maybe their "don'ts" are too subtly aspirated. Maybe they were trying to tell you something else:"...how many close calls ourlives are made of, didthe palm reader sayYou will have a long lifeor the wrong wife, supposegod has bad handwritingor a lisp, and we've mis-understood the messages:In the begonia was the worm...we mistook gardening advicefor the story of our lives—god made lime, and separatedthe lime from the bark, plantedseeds, they were fruitful andvegetable, he looked at what he hadmade and saw that it was food"Sharon Bryan today at Poetry Daily
No, je ne parlay pas.But perhaps the bird was sayingMystery Bet, Mystery BetLunar brogue yeller? What a great poem, Juke, love it.
Post a Comment