Junior Bird Men

DITTY singing (“Junior Bird Men, up in the air, upside down”), I tumble from the plane,
CHUTE opens, whistling weirdly. I look up:
SIEVE of a canopy! The thought occurs: when humans
ADAPT well, they require time plus iteration.

Close Call

OZONE smell fills the air where the
QUITE close––too close––lightning struck like a
NINJA. Me taking cover? Not so much. No
AWARD for grace or poise forthcoming.

Ruin Preferred

OZONE above might heal, last joint act before we
NINJAed away collective deeds of grace, now re-
QUITEing every impulse of care with scorn. Darwin
AWARD more lustrous than common good, ruin preferred.

Pike Place

CROOKed the foreman finger for fish to fly,
THREW the crew their catch for crowd,
SUAVEly caught and given paper wrap,
BEGINs stray custom, winds up a tourist trap.