You’d sit quietly and suddenly the Parrot would shout,
“Death is the Mother of Beauty!” — and then she’d
Nod and eat a burrito. She was taciturn, but if you
Pushed her, she’d become fiery and cry: “My life
Had stood, a Loaded Gun!” and fan her feathers.
What do you have to offer that is more inventive
Than the Parrot’s glittering discourse? What do you
Have to say that could not be topped by: “The world
Is too much with us,” “Sunset and evening star,”