Peacock

For writer's cramp

As a matter of fact, I like
a choice of mates, he says.

But - a thousand green eyes?

I hope the predators don't call your bluff.

It seems a risky proposition,
putting all your peafowl eggs
in such a fine and celebrated
feathered basket.

I say:
It seems that dragging iridescence
in the dirt would hurt your chances
(maybe even cause some
missed she-fowl romances).

Scientists have disagreed on it
of course, they always do but you
do not debate the so-called facts

not now or then or ever, when
just this:

a thousand green eyes
shift and smile, shimmering
opened by soft winds.