Kept In the Dark
I am MacDougal's parrot, he taught me how to speak,
Whenever i repeat an obscene word, he chides, excuse your beak.
It happens when folk ask him, if i'm his cockatoo,
I'll fly into an awful rage, that's when the air turns blue.
He also has a butler, his name is Mister Ree,
Where the only time MacDougal talks, is sitting on his knee.
We are now entertainers, with unscripted repartee,
Where all our jokes backfire, upon the stooge, that's me.
I say, he says, let's holiday, i think i'll fly by air,
Then proffers me a bag of nuts, then says i'll meet you there.
But offstage we're the best of friends, together every day,
And listen to the radio, on stations where they play
The music from our favourite shows, where MacDougal's passions ballet,
While i am quite the opposite, for i'm more Tin Pan Alley.
We read the morning papers, and discuss the daily news,
Where we both agree to differ, and air our different views.
But slowly my suspicions grow, is there something i have missed,
Could MacDougal be a dummy, and Mister Ree his ventriloquist.
I would be disappointed, if it's reality,
Where MacDougal only could exist, with Ree's ability.
9/ 3/ 2018.
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