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As a Fowl Hath

by Beth LaBuff  
12/17/2009 / Humor

Subjects in a kingdom with
A vastly different culture,
Were a flock of finely feathered fowl,
Ruled by a vulture.

The vulture had a press conference,
Announced some shocking facts,
Their infrastructure needed fixed,
He'd have to raise their tax.

To start with a committee had
To analyze decay.
It seemed that bumps and potholes
Plagued their landing strip runway.

The vulture used conscription
To draft a common loon,
His job to raise tax revenue
Find ways to do it soon.

Taxes charged "as each fowl hath"
And based on what they wore.
Some birds would pay a little
While others would pay more.

Each fowl, taxed on its colors,
Whether tone or whether hue,
More colors higher taxes
To compile new revenue.

A census was mandated
To count colors on each bird.
Single-file before the loon,
Much grousing could be heard.

Rich peacock, wealthy humming bird
Or so the loon assumed,
And placed on them a premium tax
For iridescent plumes.

A shy goose in her gray down coat,
From fright, started to swoon.
She left a pile of feathers
As she molted near the loon.

Canary yellow, chartreuse, teal,
Cardinal red, and heather,
Sapphire, crow black, indigo
To tally colored feathers.

The new tax programa success,
The loon assumed free rein,
Became a little crazy and
Imposed more tax campaigns.

A mandate stated every fowl
Must pass a wing inspection,
Then openly display a tag
On their hindquarter section.

For every flight-plan filed,
A flight-plan tax was due,
Was payable at take-off
By every fowl who flew.

The robins, charged a wing and leg,
And sought to take up arms,
Because of sky-high property
Tax on their earthworm farms.

The mallard sought a tax shelter,
A duck blind his escape,
Was forced to buy a duck stamp
And attached it with duck tape.

A warbler tax on twitterers,
A clean tax on birdbaths,
The loon became creative
With his loony tax-brained math.

Not content to tax the living
With their levies, so absurd,
The loon and vulture looked for ways
To tax the dodo bird.

Disenfranchised in their kingdom,
Fowl citizens distraught.
The cuckoo vocalized the words
That other birds now thought.

Colors! Numbers! Visa verse!
They left the loon insane,
Contributed to his demise,
He'd overtaxed his brain.

His eulogy delivered by
The vulture's raucous spiel,
Who seized the opportunity,
Not one to waste a meal!

Copyright Beth LaBuff 2017

Before Beth LaBuff and her husband, Tilman, moved to the high desert of Arizona, she lived most of her life surrounded by the cornfields of Adair County, Iowa.

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