How could I possibly explain
Why I drink upside down,
Balance on the flute of one leg
And snuggle my head in the nether regions of my body?
The world out there is not so pretty,
Its mudflats, lagoons and mangrove trees
Are like shit to a lotus
Where I, to quote you humans, hide,
You who attribute my pink milk, egg and feathers
To the peculiarities of my diet,
As if you don't go crazy like a bovine at my rose.
But tell me why am I always adjusting my sticks of legs
To achieve some ineffable harmony?
How can my infinite curve of neck take my head in every direction
Yet I keep the same bittersweet expression?
And why, in a world of pink, are my eyes orange?
The truth is, I am hideous
And cursed to wander a place even uglier than me.
I seek the most negligible of things, the beautiful,
And never find it, so I preen and poke at my outrageous feathers,
As close as I will get to living in my own skin.
