Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

A Terrible Poem About A Canary

If the night seems dark,
It is.
Trust your eyes.
Your nose is useless,
And your ears collaborate
With liars’ mouths.
Unless they hear nothing.
When the jungle is quiet,
Something is about to die.

Do you see what I see?
His slouching done!
The beast is come!
Great gosh-a-mighty,
What a long time comin’.

The miners
–a mile down–
Argued with the canary.
“You can’t be sure that’s poison,”
One said.
“You are too dramatic, canary,”
Another said.
The canary did not say anything.
The canary was dead.
Canaries never get to say,
“I told you so.”

If it seems dark,
It is.
Trust your eyes.
Your nose is useless.


  1. TotD may perhaps have become less about the Dead, but this recent stuff has been really excellent. I’ve given up reading Politico recently (doctor’s orders!) but I really look forward to these posts. Yes, some may say that defines me as lame, but tough times demand desperate measures…

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