PARROT PARTY

Parrot Party

parrots in tree 2 crop 

It’s Summer Solstice- the Silly Season,

when the Sun drives everyone Mad.

And today in my back yard

there’s Parrot Party Pandemonium!

Yes, high on sugar in the branches above,

a profusion of drunken parrots

squabble and screech.

River-gum blossoms loaded with fermented nectar

fuel the debauchery.

The brightly coloured, tipsy birds

strut and stumble and argue

loudly. Bad-tempered bastards,

they make poor drunks.

Below the ground is littered

with broken branches, petals, pollen, feathers, leaves..

the detritus of their Debauch.

 

Meanwhile, next door,

the young humans are partying hard,

some end-of-year barbecue

in their back yard.

High on fermented hops

they babble and shriek

as young children run wild amongst them.

The women, colourful as parrots

in their bright lipstick and summer dresses

strut and stumble and screech,

their laughter high and brittle.

The men sound a bellicose bass note,

as they bullshit and bellow and belch.

Loudspeakers blare stridently cheerful music.

Plastic cups and paper plates,

crumpled napkins and empty bottles

litter the lawn,

the detritus of their debauch.

 

The afternoon progresses,

already tomorrow’s hangover for many

starts to loom, but for now

both parties are getting louder and drunker

as the sunset approaches. Indeed,

as the Volume swells to a Crescendo,

the two parties, human and parrot

seem to merge and mingle

into a single auditory cacophony

erupting all around me,

and I can no longer tell which is which.

 

But at last the Charming Evening comes,

and the parrots pack up and push off

to find some perch to sleep it off.

The humans party too winds down

and the guests depart in a slamming of car doors,

drunkenly driving off in shiny cars

to unknown destinations.

 

But even now there is no Peace for the Poet,

oh gentle reader,

for now the flying-foxes come out to play,

the twilight sky fills with their silhouettes.

They circle,

then they descend and swoop

to party in the very same flowering tree,

and sip the same sweet, fermented nectar.

Soon their drunken screechings

and the leathery flapping of wings

will fill the night.

I lie there listening to them,

their drunken boasts,

the sodden arguments,

the leering come-ons..

I tell you, all these drunks are the same,

I don’t care what species they come from.

 

But its the Summer Solstice- the silly season,

there’s nothing that you can do,

Yes it’s the Summer Solstice, the Festival season

I may as well go get drunk too.

parrots in xmas tree 2

***

plant4 blackopJpigREDUCED

***

!!!!!!

The Reverend Hellfire is a practising performance Poet an an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists AND the Church of the Universe.

He does his best

***

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~ by reverendhellfire on December 16, 2012.

4 Responses to “PARROT PARTY”

  1. A delightful poetic account of drunken parties, where parrots and humans are almost interchangeable! Light-hearted and amusing.

  2. Have heard a few such birds, cards & bards, libations & gyrations.
    Gets us through on occasion. Your poetry is most entertaining …

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