Flamingo Dance of the Stinky Prawns

the pink flamingo

staked in a pot of orange birds of paradise

has stolen my real name

my hidden magical name

the source of all my imaginary powers

together we dance the steps of give and take

waltz around the garden in full sunlight

breathe in the fishy aroma of regurgitated prawns

the sun beats down

the prawns stink high

we dance and dance as day goes by

we dance right on into the night

as midnight nears the dance goes wild

with curried prawns and fishy lies

we dance around now in a pack

rows of flamingos back to back

we are the pinkest of the pink

kicking our heels up in the stink

as the sun rises I look around

and realise something quite profound

I have a split personality

for all these flamingos are just me

 

 

 

Copyright April 2014

 

 

 

 

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