At the shack by the dock I saw a peacock
Swaying gracefully, side to side, feeding her peachicks
Amicably, lovingly, tenderly guarding their lives like a tightly fastened lock
Twas profound; twas at the core of life itself, but it made me sick
How nobody's interested in a thing like this
Dutifully I march up my stairs to my chamber
Sitting and typing without light in the dark of night
Desperately longing to be the rearranger
Of the nature of man—what shocks him, stimulates him,
Brings him to delight
As when my writings get shipped to and printed by a rotogravure
I am rendered one thing sure
That a peaceful peacock, deliberately performing the essential acts of life, is not in the printing plan
Rather you will see a pettily decorated supercilious man
You'll view him in his pristine clothes—crafted for but having nothing to do with him
You'll gaze at his 7th beautiful wife, his present dramas unfolding, his current whims
Treated as matters of national urgency
Peremptorily I'm obligated to bring this to the press!
While everybody walks by the peacock helping her distressed
Peachicks LIVE on free
while humans lay captivated in superficiality
