Leaden, William proceeded to clip wings.
The green was full of them,
Horrible, writhing pinions describing all God's directions at once,
Sending up a stink so powerful it became sound,
The sound of the One Name:
FILTH!
He set to his task, teeth irritated by tuna strands,
The bagel having been too sweet also,
Causing him to retch as Wing Juice slithered, steaming onto his ballet slipper.
Poor William, they thought,
The others who had gathered to eat by the Kirk,
He'll never get that done before he needs to be back at his desk!