Belch Ii Poem by Morgan Michaels

That human obsession, Liberty, to you,
Meant, not unbridled skies,
But freedom from assault, which,
Though you never suffered it, believed
Eternally in the possibility of.

So day after day you sat tight
Benefiting from a cuteness you didn't even know
You had to impel your keep to
Fill your cup with rape seed and water from the tap.

Till the day you fell off your perch,
Unaccountably, dead, your rubber band
Snapped- unwound or something
To the gravelly floor of the cage,
Your belching days done,
There being no heaven for sparrows.

So, we fished you out, rolled you up
Carefully in cheesecloth, little mummy,
And buried you in the back yard,
Marking the site, never, with a cross, theless.