A mass of metal glows within the nest,
intensely densely yellow-cored and cold,
and roosting orange-footed, warm of breast,
the mutant goose that laid those eggs of gold.
A solemn guardian presents your choice:
Now which, he asks, would you prefer to own –
will this enchanted goose make you rejoice,
or would you rather have the stuff she’s grown?

And even though the bird requires care
beyond the vigilance that metal needs,
the chooser every time and anywhere
will gravitate to treasure that self-breeds.
So don’t you think selection is absurd
when product over process is preferred?

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