A Bird in the Hand

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” a psychic said to me.
Then my psychiatrist said the same, but for a bigger fee.
When people preach to me like this, I get set in my ways.
I’m never going to take advice from folks who spout clichés!
The birds that I’ve had in my hand number very few.
I can’t recall a single time I combed a bush for two.

And so although I know in fact a proverb is not literal,
and that allusions to two birds are very likely clitoral,
still I’m loathe to think in adages as others do.
I have no wish to take a walk in any other’s shoe.
I’ve never thought the grass was greener in my neighbor’s yard.
And spouting other people’s words does not make you a bard.

I don’t think cleverness with words need make us any wiser.
If my neighbor’s lawn is greener, I’ll use more fertilizer.
So please don’t give me your advice using hackneyed phrases.
For all this glib advice just sorta puts me into dazes.
And if you simply must advise, my character to hone,
please do me a favor and use words of your own!!!

The prompt for NaPoWriMo today is to write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. They say that “all cats are black at midnight,” but really? Surely some of them remain striped. And maybe there is an ill wind that blows some good. Perhaps that wind just has some mild dyspepsia.  Whatever phrase you pick, I hope you have fun complicating its simplicity. Happy writing!