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Chickadee

 This Beefy brute, chickadee, flick of black and white, selects winter, and you maunder in the slush. Oppression is a fancy word for landscape now that you have the time to think about it. Time fills the tree with fluffy snow. An achey pine, perhaps, a Chickadee, and a stick to place in some future place. Welcome to incidence, which is nowto the point of now. The thrift of chickadee voice de-persuades the grift essence about talking your problems by metric weight, length, and easeful death of time. You haven’t reached rich enough and the moon acts stark. The chickadee of monument hops about. Compare that to the tire iron you couldn’t find, when you thought you needed something for some thing. A seed or something from a tree without occultation of yearning. Your top secret underwear needs a revue. Chickadee says so. The spirit can be so. As in so.


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