Seagull

i wanna be a seagull

i wanna fly down

to where the ocean

meets the sand and the trees

i wanna land on your beachside table

arch my back

crane my neck

and yell at you

yell at your kids

yell at the other seagulls

until you give me a chip

and then i will want another

and another

and then some more

with a ceaseless flappy squawking

my feathered brethren and i

will hold relentlessly hound you

until we are satisfied

that you are chipless

...

we will move back away

but only until

you bin your rubbish

we will hover nearby

and carry on

bugged out on saturated fats

and chicken salt

oh and then we will see

if this look, this chipless plea

that cross your beach day faces

is a fact of reality

or not!

we will rip that chip

paper

asunder

as we pitch and parry

for room on the

edge of the bin

fighting gravity

with a flap of our wings

fighting each other

for greased paper things

and when this meal

is finished

like so many others

gone before

we will just arch and crane

and crane and arch

and yell at each other some more