A large cockatoo roams inside my head,
saying words that only I understand.
I believe it has chosen me
for some type of mission,
but its larger plan is, as yet,
unknowable, unknown
as its canny, nictitating eye.
I feel its clawed, leathery toes
grasping my medulla oblongata.
It tells me, repeatedly, rasping,
that it is as smart as
a two-year-old human child.
Well, so am I. So am I.