the hen and the oriole

i met a toad
the other day by the name
of warty bliggens
he was sitting under
a toadstool
feeling contented
he explained that when the cosmos
was created
that toadstool was especially
planned for his personal
shelter from sun and rain
thought out and prepared
for him
do not tell me
said warty bliggens
that there is not a purpose
in the universe
the thought is blasphemy

a little more
conversation revealed
that warty bliggens
considers himself to be
the centre of the said
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him
to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon
and wheeling constellations
to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens

to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favoured

ask rather
said warty bliggens
what the universe
has done to deserve me
if i were a 
human being i would
not laugh
too complacently
at poor warty bliggens
for similar
absurdities
have only too often
lodged in the crinkles
of the human cerebrum
     archy

the hen and the oriole

well boss did it     
ever strike you that a     
hen regrets it just as     
much when they wring her     
neck as an oriole but     
nobody has any     
sympathy for a hen because     
she is not beautiful     
while everyone gets     
sentimental over the     
oriole and says how     
shocking to kill the     
lovely thing this thought     
comes to my mind     
because of the earnest     
endeavour of a     
gentleman to squash me     
yesterday afternoon when i     
was riding up in the     
elevator if i had been a     
butterfly he would have     
said how did that     
beautiful thing happen to     
find its way into     
these grimy city streets do     
not harm the splendid     
creature but let it     
fly back to its rural     
haunts again beauty always     
gets the best of     
it be beautiful boss     
a thing of beauty is a     
joy forever     
be handsome boss and let     
who will be clever is     
the sad advice     
of your ugly little friend     
     archy