C'Est La Vie!

I gaze above from my grassy station While lying on my back, the cumuli Traversed the sky in noiseless slow-motion. Great day! I thought while fixed upon the sky. Then casually a bird flew overhead And dropped its cargo off all over me. In life a little rain must fall, instead A bird brain passed its bowel of feces. What does one say after being pooped on? C’est La vie! What else can happen to me? I’ve been a target of defecation If I’d a gun that bombardier be shot. I’m not that feathered class aves port-a-pot.