The Guineas of Gardiner Creek

by Brad Davis

There’s this old Manor, decrepit, ticky,
patrolled by dappled tick eaters
clawking endlessly their grey, clown
headed blather decay, decay senseless
feathered iambs, making endless
rounds around those ticky grounds.
They serve and annoy occasion
the occasional smirk, laugh, dissimilar
verse make silence sweeter.  Ah,
the possibilities they inspire, those petty
red lipped bleaters today, today the sun
rising on that ticky, decrepit Manor.
Dappled, senseless, useful, they are
all among themselves happy, most of all.