Gangland Birds

Raucous, unsettled birds those blue jays.
They moved into a nearby tree like a gang,
All swagger and coarse slang.
Then moved on to make sure some sparrow pays.

Perversity

Battered tin trumpets are lovely to hear.

Pouring sweet melody into your ear.

Holding you captive to each awful note

With beauty like songs from a goat.

Rotten bananas are subtly charming

With pungent bouquets 'neath their odors alarming.

Just the cuisine for discerning elites

To bring forth their media bleats.

Whatever is lousy is tastefully chic.

Whatever is awful is tres magnifique.

Whatever destroys is really sublime.

Whatever is true is a crime.