The other day, I went downtown
and stumbled on the strangest scene.
I stepped into a darkened bar,
compelled by thirst. Know what I mean?

The searing heat of afternoon
had parched my throat and had me beat,
so, thought I'd have a drink or two,
relax a bit, get off my feet.

I quickly found a quiet spot,
a little table near the back
where I could be alone to think
and drink and have a little snack.

I hadn't been there very long
before I saw, to my surprise,
the guy behind the bar had wings,
a beak and two black, beady eyes.

As if that were not bad enough,
I noticed then, on every stool
that only birds had bellied up,
all sipping drinks and acting cool.

I saw a dark, distinguished one,
though slightly bald, a regal eagle,
chatting up a gal in white...
I'm pretty sure she was a seagull.

On two adjacent stools, I saw
a pair of penguins dressed to kill
in black tuxedos, drinking wine
with care, avoiding any spill.

A pelican with under-bite
seemed slightly sad, but nursed a drink
while next to him, his feathered friend
kept flaunting her flamingo pink.

The barkeep sauntered over then,
and in a language strange to me,
said something cold that made me feel
he didn't like my company.

I looked around for just one friend,
afraid to smile or even grin,
because in bird bars I could see
no one had lips. Might be a sin

to let my happy nature show.
So, scared to death that I might laugh,
I turned my head away and vowed
to stifle it on their behalf.

That's when I saw the sweetest sight...
A parrot sweeping up some wheat.
With feathers ruffled, much like mine,
he used some words I can't repeat,

but such relief came over me
as finally I understood
how, even in a bird-brained world,
a common language feels so good!