Backyard Bioprospecting

The birds have become positively giddy in the backyard
They seem to like the new plants that I sowed
But I just realized that perhaps it was the poppies
That were the present I shouldn't have bestowed

Beasts of burden, they start to flail awkwardly
Their movements are quite like a drunken sailor
Among the plants, you see them crashing around willy nilly
Even disturbing the squirrels along the perimeter

Initially I thought that it was some large nocturnal animal
That was laying waste to my poppies, leaving only the petals
But I started to observe the daytime routine of the birds
That had become the new repeat visitors to my house of cards

Altogether intoxicated by the sweet nectar
They were rather enchanted by the recent discovery
Of this new variant of the Gods' elixir
A taste of life, perchance to escape daily miseries

The packet of seeds I'd obtained before Amazon
Had brought that trade to a full stop
Was showing the potency of what could happen
When you reap the Wuhan crop

Punch Drunk, a playlist

Sometimes addiction is escapism, anaesthesizing the bearer from a surfeit of reality, sometimes it cannot be helped. A playlist on a loss of inhibition. (spotify version)

• Only When I'm Drunk by Tha Alkaholiks
• One More Drink by Jaguar Wright
• Punch Drunk by Sade
• Drunk As Cooter Brown by Cassandra Wilson
• This World is Drunk by Raphael Saadiq
• I Want to Take You Higher by Sly & The Family Stone

I keep wondering if the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms ought to investigate the kind of controlled substance that has been elevating the minds of my backyard birds. Alternatively, a cartel might pursue a forensic examination. We'll see what the growing season provides next year.

This tall tale is part of a series: In a covidious time.

File under: humour, life, observation, nature, odd, culture, perception, addiction, garden, poppies, covidious, poetry, toli

Writing log: April 19, 2021