in standard yellow,
the pet canary mounts a fine case
for the existence of a Macaronesian
world-beyond-cage.
Unable to stick to the point,
he skips from perch to perch
performing a brilliant routine
of Baroque insanity.
When singing, the entire bird
becomes a throat
whose post-water canticles
range in genre
from alarm to charm,
from staccato accusation
to theremin,
from vigilant warm-up,
to Thumbelina diva cantata-cantata-cantata.
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