A Velvet Rebellion in Bowler Hats

🦩 "Forecast: Flamingos”

It rained flamingos at half past sane,

Each one dressed for a bureaucrat’s ball.

Black coats, bowler hats, and blank expressions—

The uniform of dreams too scared to sprawl.

They fell like thoughts from a timid mind,

Landing on rooftops in perfect rows.

Not one squawked, not one danced—

Just nodded to rules nobody knows.

The sky, once wild, now stitched in suits,

Drizzled pink birds with corporate grace.

But one flamingo twirled mid-air,

And winked at gravity’s poker face.

He landed sideways, hat askew,

Scribbled nonsense on a chimney flue.

And whispered loud enough for rain:

“Conformity’s just weather with no champagne.”

Based on Rene Magritte's Galconda

Another magritte tribute

I sat on a quill in a puddle of rhyme,

Sipping ink tea and nibbling on time.

A thought fluttered by, half a stanza, quite shy,

So I winked at its meter and gave it a try.

The moon wore a monocle, judging my verse,

While a hedgehog in tweed muttered, “Could be worse.”

But brevity’s bliss, said the custard-faced gnome,

So I folded the sky and flew home in a poem.