As for the ingrate blue jay     inherently dapper     dappled in 

Brooks Brothers plumage     whose wing     wicked resplendent     lit 

in a freak fir fire     involving one rosy-cheeked     waddling toddler 

two schnockered green     parents & the tiniest     sparkler in the world 

as for that guy who     pompous in flight     one 4th of July     dove 

nose first     at a beatific swallow     as if     there in the unfettered night 

existed some backwoods design     shortcut to heaven     feathered 

leprechaun leading to     a landfill     of blinding gold bullion     life-

changing light     chased & chastened     as a sin     committed to awaken 

misplaced repentance     As for consequence     best not to ask 

about the jay’s final flight     eight-foot dumb     luck     grace     a glide 

straight     into the man-     made lake where the ingrate     treaded water 

like an easy     metaphor     unburdened as he was     wing fired     heir 

to an airless air     breezy lean     that screamed walking desire