Chirp

I hate birds,

They chirp a lot.

Like breaking glass,

Or screeching knives.

 

I hate birds

And their sheeted arms.

Like dim clouds,

That spread from beyond.

 

I hate birds,

And their pointy beaks.

Like was harp spears,

Or bloody toothpicks.

 

I hate birds,

They crap a lot

Like acid rain.

Slippery drops

Of moist blobs