Paul And The Bird

Paul and I sat on a park bench

Drinking whisky from clear plastic cups, which we took from a fast food restaurant

It was a beautiful day and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky

As he poured us another shot, he looked anxiously to the sky

I saw him do this more than a couple of times

“Hey man, what are you looking up there for?”, I asked

“Birds”, he answered. “Those god damned creatures are everywhere these days.”

“Listen, Paul.  We live in Florida.  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have birds here.”

“Yeah, well, not usually this many.  Did you know I counted more than twenty of them in my backyard, yesterday?  They’ve been shitting everywhere.  I got so pissed off, than I grabbed a pellet gun and killed one of them.”

“Why would you do something like that,” I demanded, “What if I unexpectedly shot you, the next time you were in my backyard?”

“You probably would” he said, “I’ll drink to that.”

So Paul poured two more

This time he poured them deep

They were taller than doubles

“Here’s to you, shooting me”

“Here, here”

And I drank the whisky back

Faster than the pellet which killed that bird

© Dicky J Loweman 2015