What I'm Reading Today: Some technical documents. Sigh.
Today, something a little lighter. A poem I wrote in college.
Barnyard Biliousness
Love, like a chicken, is the finest of fowl.
Invariably oblivious, not wise like an owl.
Inconstantly peckish, perky, and proud,
It sits on its wits and cackles out loud.
Dove-like it coos, and hawk-like it squawks.
Leghorns are mild, but beware Bantam cocks.
Claws are like razors. Rip you to shreds.
Befuddled, the farmer the rooster beheads.
Questions of the Day: I don't write much poetry, though I have in the past. Do you write outside your comfort zone? Is it helpful?
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