God Paints A Parakeet Downed Poem by Mason Maestro

Find checkmate with the checker, take a roll with the bouncer
When testicles to zero, it's the nerves nerves nerves nerves
Grow like an onion with your head in the ground
Leave as God paints a parakeet downed

World's argot
You're so concise when your form is so abridged
Stop, don't pause
Don't get bogged down by a dispute on concerning words

Choosing threes or thirds
Bear the logomachy somewhere between right and wrong
Vain refrain
Everyone fails with their brevity of diction

Parakeet
Everybody cage one
Obsolete
Infinity, minus one
The worlds collide, but what everyone really needs is a parakeet

Prance, don't tread
Soon you'll be left to diagnose the dread
Fee, no fee
It's a complex concept of such great simplicity

Distraught fowl
In the swampy wetland of this national park
Knock it down
In the gallery showroom right in front of all the guides, Chinese translators and the middle-aged Strait-laced curator