Pinning chests like puffins to project
      fuzzy assertion,
      huddled, brave foragers
chase the crumbs along the
      stained ground,
flapping feathers of civility during
      auspicious climbs and
      daft plummets, swooping in
massive waves of perplexed flesh
      until frenzied,
shifting and undulating in rage like a
      storm of hungry nerves
      all darting with beaks coiled
in panicked alarm: no longer just a
      severe warning.
John Weber
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cacophony-3/
