A whistle is an anonymous tone blown, from a biomegaphone
Sexless, non-ageist and quite possibly unique to humanity
Just a simple declaration, from the mind ‘stroke’ the brain
Sends it through the lungs, throat and face, till it’s free!
Why…
An old grandma, in Arkansas, can shrill a trill, you can’t ignore
A sumo man, based in Japan, can wolf whistle you to the floor
A courting teen in Africa, can rasp her tunes through the crowd
And a London gent, could perhaps prevent, an accident, by tweeting aloud
Each call heard by everyone else
Each designed, not to mislead
But each could not identify
Which mouth, did each deed
Wait, what? You don’t whistle? Why?
You can’t? What do you mean?
You must, you’re a grown-up now
A new way to transmit your meme
Or…
To alert a sleeping policeman
Converse with alert sheepdogs
Announce you’re here or there
In country fog or city smog
Listen, a whistle can hide you in white noise
Transmitting covert intelligence that annoys
Cryptography in the street, is quite a feet
While fine-tuning, your crooning to the aether, discrete
Here’s the thing…
It’s a special way to sing
There’s a reason it evolved
But, which is, not yet fully solved
We inherited an advantageous behaviour
To communicate, whilst hiding our accent
Our culture or our intellect. It’s our binary bark
With all personality taken out
Perfect for communication, with whoever is about
Shakes matter and energy of any wavelength, or in the dark
So, of all the universal languages, I no longer hate
It’s the one we may rate, to communicate our fate