“Ugly!” A swan looked up. She did not feel the slur;
Because she was beautiful, the slur did not occur.
This was how she felt—she felt no pain,
Even though the slur had come from a crane.
Her friends, however, told her what to feel.
An insult from a crane had to be real.
They said, “Insults wound, and you should be raw
With suffering.” She said, “Congress shall make no law
Abridging free speech. That’s how I, as a swan
Shall live,” and she sang on the waters with elan.
“Speech protection only applies to the government,”
A wise friend said, but the swan said she felt it meant
“No law” shall be made; therefore in the whole land
Free speech lives. And she sang to him on the sand.
Swans and cranes stared. She was beautiful and content.
She smiled and sang everywhere she went
Of mercy and love and the First Amendment.