(untitled)

The kookaburra is sometimes 
Not a nice guy.
It has the tendency to laugh 
That things that are 
Found unfunny to some.

But it's always back there
Forcing the wearer to zip the mouth,
The gag of an idiot 
Like me who really sees.
The gag of an idiot not ready.

It's exasperating how it hangs out
In trees
And when it feeds it's as if 
It needs me
So I don't have anything left to give.

It's a gift.
It's the toes that will one day come off 
That worries me 
And me laughing at the thought 
In public.

Everything I will never be in it's beak 
Speaking it's secret to the hearer
About how it doesn't matter ----
Just that sometimes I wish it would.
It's the real me all over.

I'm captured by it,
When it should be the other way around.
I'm ejected by it
And the laugh weighing me down.