Word Nibbler

A jackdaw is stealing my tote bag of unused words, a rodentlike kibitzer, a pecking dictator of the worthiness of sounds. If I run out of bullets now he will take over my range, blue-pencil my graffiti, he will denounce me as a purveyor of insensible languages, a peddler of demonstrations made for the amusement of dabbling dilettantes. Then I shall be defenseless. I will have to render down the fat of my mind and when it is all as lean tree bark it will be my own wickiup, there I will wait until he comes creeping again into my larder, aiming to rob me of my last cracked chicken bones, my winter store to make just a little broth for my tongue.