A peacock may be flashy and LSD bright 
Her glow will turn your mind to wonderful sins 
Soft feathers bouncing in an oversized gay 
Flamboyant for all to envy 

When I gaze at her it makes me sick 
So far removed from efficiency and clarity
Natural selection has not found its truth 
She has withstood the fair hand of nature 

Our logic has mistakenly granted a wide birth 
Why not a finch of delicate touch 
That bird of subtly, carved in reality  
Must I endure

Oh this selfish beast 
Beauty is her trap and I her victim 
No more I say 
Your inefficiency is my deepest regret