the magpies

the magpies are having a meeting

seven scavengers squawking strong

call the cops and bust up their bleeping

they’re trespassing on my lawn!

 

all dressed in black tuxedos

with scaly-footed spats

three are smoking cigarillos

and they hate us dirty rats

 

this many magpies are a mob

Hitchcock would stop and stare

a seven magpie mobster job

is bound to cause a scare

 

the wing leader is a-screeching

I heard his name’s ‘Capone’

it’s a heist I think they’re planning

I tell the cops now on my phone

 

the magpie mob has moved in, man

with their evil hearts all black

they’re gonna rob my garbage can

then it’s me they just might whack!

 

seven crime boss nuisance birds

are meeting on my lawn

cigarillo smoke and squawky words

what takes those cops so long?

 

a BB gun might fix their fun

and send them to their hide-out nests

but then I’d have a mob job run

of bird bombs from these pests

 

the magpies are having a meeting

this turf is sweet— Capone, he knows

he made me an offer I’m not refusing—

they’ll protect me from the crows!

About troysherdahl

A blue-collar bohemian with a penchant for fine words and dirty jeans.
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