pigeons, the color
of storm clouds—
but such
iridescent necks,
like pearls of new rain.
You could do worse,
they seem to claim,
than the world
at its absolute peak
of nonplussed.
Just you take
a tip from us:
make a Dadaist plan
to be less profound.
Say something blue;
do something
round; be
as you seem. If you can
speak, why
wouldn't you?
