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Monday, July 7, 2014

White Flamingo

Shredded paper seemed to be everywhere
Slices and schnitzels
Little bits and bitzels
Chunks cut out in bizarre shapes
A long paper chain of dogs chasing grapes

In the middle of it all sat an origami creation
Not created from any ancient design
Nor by simple paper folding
Or slot "A" inserting into slot "B"

This was a fantabulous flapping five foot flamingo
Large enough to ride upon
With paper saddle upon white feathered back
Precision paper feathers pinched underneath
Between faux paper leather and paper bird skin sack

Time lost all meaning in the construction of this
Clocks lay destroyed next to the walls where they had hung
Though I think the sun rose and set a couple dozen times
As I perpetrated my mostly non-folding origami crimes

Thinking perhaps this was a great time to try it out
Perhaps some ground flapping tests or two
I moved a stool over next to the great bird
Standing upon it when a strange sound was heard

I looked up in question and saw an odd thing
The head had swiveled towards me
And it was flexing a wing

Reaching out to correct the head to more front and center
The beak opened up and damned near bit me!

I quickly retreated right off of that stool
Into the corner with my supplies and tools
To devise a plan to retake and tame this bird
But as I spoke to myself I do think he heard

For he stalked decidedly in my direction
Causing me to lose all discretion
Hastily throwing together a paper flame thrower
From which blossomed a red construction paper red flower

Around the room we feinted
Him going left as I went right
Breaking odd things as we went
Surely voiding the warranties on things that I'd rented

I finally pushed that paper flamingo back
Just as I crossed in front of the door
Slipping through and slamming it shut
As I could hear him running across the floor

Then taking real matches from my pocket I lit the place ablaze
Sat down to smoke a cigarette and watch through the haze
As the interior went up in flames and the roof fell right in
Sending up edge glowing black ghosts of paper into the night
Hearing the whisper of paper feathers cutting the air on high

The paper flamingo had at last found flight