Poetry Uncategorized

Gull Poem: The King Am I


Proudly I sit atop the pole of glory

Crows kiss my webbed feet and give offerings

The hawk soars overhead in military salute

I feast on leftover burritos and pies with cream filling

I poop on barbecue pits and clothes left out to dry

I own a harem of dark feathered ladies with large booty feathers

Humans fear me, children run and hide

I am the King, the King is who am I.

©️mft

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

1 comment on “Gull Poem: The King Am I

  1. Reblogged this on Crow On The Wire and commented:

    The King by mark tulin @crowonthewire.com

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