Let them battle on
like beetles in a bottle
made of black boron brisket basters,
see if I care.
I’ll be too busy
lifting a lark from grand larceny
at the local
settling into books about justice
and the earmarks
of ethics on an enlightened society.
Just take, for instance, the calm songbird
known as the
male gavel finch. This master
of manipulation picks up a stick in its beak
and slams it
against the trunk of a tree,
making vibrations imperceptible by humans,
to the finicky female.
One well-placed strike may be all it takes.