Sheep on the field

Just your average bicycle ride,

See some sheep, very woolly, two-eyed.

Come to a halt for a nice, quick pause

Observe the sheep and their chewing jaws.

That one over there is just ruminating

Chewing with the intent of swallow-for-sating.

The small one is rolling around in the grass,

Fluffy and white, its cuteness first-class.

And that one there is… in a white lab coat?

Holding a wrench and making a note?

That thing that it’s building, hold on…

Is that a rocket made of wood and nylon?

Defense against wolves and political aggression?

That raises one, and just one question:

How does one use a wrench with hooves?

One of the most complex of fine-motor moves.

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Airborne revenge

I went to the market to see all the sights

Bartering, haggling, some drunken fights.

I buy a cup of coffee to unmoodify me,

Me addicted? No, just the taste, you see.

Sauntering, strutting in the sun with a smile,

A seagull greets me with its natural bile,

And where does it land if not in the cup?

Something in me stirs but I don’t blow up.

I hatch a plan of artificially made wings,

Aluminum bars, Kevlar strings.

As an engineer it doesn’t take long,

I ready my tool for righting this wrong.

Tool number one, that is, of course,

Tool number two is slightly more coarse.

Prune juice, flax seeds in olive oil, fried.

Old-timey medicine, tested and tried.

I eat my meal and assemble my machine

The most elegant piece of equipment you’ve seen.

You, or the seagull, as I approach from above

Deliver my payload on the almost-dove.

“Ha ha! You rat! How does it feel?

Ha! Mr. Seagull, karma is a wheel!”