Merlo the blackbird is a forgetter--one day his beak (""And he couldn't peck/ And he couldn't speak""), one day how to swallow (""His stomach grumbled/ And he felt hollow"")--and so on for two weeks"" worth. ""My poor, sad (hungry, etc.) Merlo!"" Coda:but Merlo sometimes does surprising things, like backing into a field of flowers and flying off with a floral tail ""for hours and hours.... My beautiful Merlo!"" This started, we're told, as an Italian children's song, and it may have been fun to chant Merlo's successive misfortunes, but freeze the froth on paper, deck it out--at the end--in psychedelic batik, and it's more than poor Merlo can bear.