so then the sea eagle Mister Osgood
added to his properly underdressed
and highly gifted puffin
secretary’s quota of wingtip tush pats
as she waddled with her unopened bag
of squid chips and she blushed and tried to conceal
honored pleasures from her superior’s
attentive touch, well she did this as she
made her way to the porthole
from which to watch the suspicious
peninsula not as far away
as these lines might inadvertently lead
perceptions to consider believing.
Sea eagle Mister Osgood gazed,
pulled out a cigar, smiled before
sparking a wood match with his driest nail.