Country Rose / City Rose
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Country Rose The sparrow is green like winterFlitting from tree to tree to find sustenance Flitting, flitting, flitting. The sparrow knows no borders. The rose droops drowsily In her plant ever-slumber, Drooping, drooping, drooping with the weight of her rich-hued petals Wakened by a seeking bee, Busy collector Busy, busy, busy bee Come a'calling for his favorite pollen. Then the sparrow catches the bee And consumes him upon said rose. This is the way of things: Sparrow and bee and orchid In an eternal ballet of nature. Ah, the dance of life Is built upon such lovely strife. |
City Rose The sparrow is green like pea-soup pukeslumming from place to place to survive slumming, slumming, slumming. The sparrow is a bum. The rose hangs her petalhead low like a drug addict coming off a bad trip tripping, tripping, tripping on all the pollen in her veins. Till one of those fucking bees sticks his fuzzy face into her private parts to scrape off the pollen scraping, scraping, scraping. Goddamit. Then some sparrow comes by and chomps down on the bug bee blood spurting onto Rosie's delighted face. Ah, if a flower could cheer She'd raise her head and buy him a beer. |
Rik Panganiban
1997
