A patch across one eye is cool.
That’s what we learned in pirate school.
A wooden leg, a steel hook-fist,
A shoulder parrot…can’t resist
Investing in the whole ensemble
(In pirate fashion, it’s the bomb).
Retirement is when it bites:
It’s difficult to see the sights
With just one eye, and can you put
Your best foot forward if the foot
You’re putting’s best, but also worst?
And if your shoulder’s parrot-cursed
For decades (those things live forever),
That’s when what when young seemed clever
Metamorphosizes to
A thing your older self will rue.
How come? ‘Cause parrots poop. A lot.
Their conversation’s also not
As riveting as one might wish.
The hook, at least, is good for fish
Which you can eat as well as use
To feed the bird, so that’s good news.
On balance, though, I’d rather keep
Both eyes, and only patch to sleep
At nap time like the buccaneers
Who make it to their golden years
Along with me (still parrot-free).
Perhaps a cat instead? We’ll see.
Pier Pressure
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