from Penguins this Calamity
Little birds in black
feathers that look like tuxedos,
clamber over each other and
the ice. The crazy
scene reminds me
of something from an old silent film.
A Chaplain, The Three Stooges, even
The Keystone Cops.
Timeless
moments when comedy was visual,
more about chaos of motion than diuretic
diatribes to bodily functions. I cannot
tear myself away from the insanity. I watch
them waddle about for hours.
(https://overpassbooks.org/poetry-2/)
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