Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all...
- Emily Dickinson
Allen’s book is a spoof on Dickinson’s theme.
I was thinking in terms of the ancient philosophical definition of man as a featherless biped.
Supposedly Diogenes the Cynic plucked a chicken and held it up saying, "Here is Plato's man."
Sung to the tune The Yellow Rose of Texas....