Even though they call them pests
I annoy these Texans
By professing my affection
For these large, personable
Wild-eyed birds
That strut unabashedly by the sidewalk cafes
Or swing in noisy gangs
Through the city park sycamores.
I guess I'm supposed to resent them
In the ways those who've lived long
Beside them do
But I'm just off the plane
And dammit! I admire their silken heads
And their brazen bravado
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem