Gull Amongst The Crows Poem by Hans Ostrom

the gull's a white viceroy
in pink rubbery footwear,
strolling stiffly
amongst a dozen crows
outfitted in workaday black.

they respect the gull's
size but not its authority.
an improvised contest
for useful slimy stinking
morsels sauteed
in city refuse juice ensues.

the crows of course caw-cuss,
bounce on wire-feet,
wield their gleaming beaks.

gull says nothing,
gobbles great pieces
of anything likely
to nourish. and finally

rolls out a rising shriek,
a fantastic prophetic scream,
an explosive ode to life.