Steven Kent

Birdbrain 

I guess I could have overlooked the way she slurped her tea; 
She wore outdated hair and clothes, the kind you never see. 
Her taste in books and movies was benign, if quite absurd, 
But then there was the matter of her idiotic bird. 
  
She named him Harley Davidson, which says an awful lot; 
She shopped online for parrot toys and bought and bought and bought. 
Her voice was high and squeaky, though she sounded self-assured 
Whenever she would talk about her idiotic bird. 
  
Her language skills deserved at best a passing grade of Fair 
For irregardless, anyways, and there instead of their. 
"I could care less" was her reply when I’d correct a word, 
And then I’d hear the chatter of her idiotic bird. 
  
At music she was hopeless, as tone-deaf as one could be 
(The albums on her shelf reflected this deficiency). 
She’d try to sing but she’d be off at least a major third, 
Which triggered yet more squawking from her idiotic bird. 
  
One pet was not enough, of course; for some it never is-- 
She owned a dog, a cat or two, a rodent she named Liz. 
All day and night that stupid hamster wheel just whirred and whirred, 
Although it never could drown out her idiotic bird. 
  
And so in time things ended just the way they had to end; 
We swore to keep in touch and then we parted friend to friend. 
I always said she’d have to choose between us--she demurred, 
But when push came to shove she picked her idiotic bird. 

Steven Kent is the poetic alter ego of writer and musician Kent Burnside (www.kentburnside.com). His work has appeared in Asses of Parnassus, Light, Lighten Up Online, New Verse News, Philosophy Now, and Snakeskin. His collection I Tried (And Other Poems, Too) was published in 2023 by Kelsay Books.