Ted

Zachary Theodore Ferguson,

who goes by Fergie or Zack,

but never by Ted,

rolled off the bed,

roused from sleep

by the crepuscular cries

of the peacocks

who had multiplied

into a multitudinous flock

in this bucolic burb.

Before he hit the floor,

still deep in a dream,

their cries had seemed

like a whole harem screaming

in a massive, synchronized,

simultaneous orgasmic creaming.

When his hard-headed noggin

hit the hardwood planks

with a bounce and a knock,

his lascivious reverie

was dashed to an

unceremonious end.

No bevy of beauties

in diaphanous silk,

writhing in ecstasy,

moaning, oh Fergie,

sighing, oh Zack.

Just a flock of obnoxious fowl,

announcing the morning

who now seemed to be crying,

it's time to get of of bed, Ted.