The mechanical bird,
his pride and his darling,
burns with hatred--
not for a sky it cannot ascend to,
not for seeds or fruit it cannot consume,
but for him,
for giving it the desire for these things--
a futile and ceaseless hunger that drives it out of its mechanical mind.
See the mad bird and its bloodied creator
staggering together down the boulevard.
Here is disfigurement.
Here is patricide.
Here is instruction:
When Daddy brings his bird home,
stay silent and pray only to the bolt across the door.