Taking the Birds Apart

I find one, languid on the sidewalk, languishing in the hearts minds Eyes consciences consciousnesses of Us, The Real Machines. But of course it’s dead. Who would presume with a knowing Eye that its battery would last longer than An Intake Of Air Needed For Sustenance? But of course it’s not real. Who would assume with a knowing Eye that when I try to screw its head off my hands get Patterly Spattered With Red Stripes On White? But of course. Mr. President put it there as a trap a bait a birdfeeder. An Intake Of Air Needed For Sustenance. A Patterly Spatter Of Red Stripes On White. But of course not. Off comes the head, out go the eyes, surveillance cameras monitoring the flick of my fingers, the expert pinch of pointer and thumb which flattens the bird-brain, that repository of reposing knowledge for reposing Presidents, Intaking Air Needed For Sustenance, languishing on couches Patterly Spattered With Red Stripes On White.