First there was a Man. Then a Woman. Then in quick succession, two cats, a confused dog beast, and two kids. I stay at home with them. I'm the Man

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Featherbrained weirdness. Seriously, it's Odd.

The writing of the following just sort of happened. It was very much written "in the moment." It's a departure. To sum up, it's pretty weird. But I figured, what the hell.


The bird flew in great gulps
and swinging notes of air and 

Notice the head down, wind blown, slit eyed
determination of a hollow boned idiot

Spurred on by a genetic deformity. A biological need to fly 1000 miles just to procreate
or hunt or get warm. No giant brains, constantly adapting. Just wings and things. Food on a blue blue sky. Stupid birds. 

Feather brained bug eaters given souls by hopeless romantics. Predators who soar on thermals high above their pray and swoop down at break-neck speed in order to snag a chipmunk. There is no bravery here. They fly like that because they have to. They have to risk their lives just to have a chance at dining on rodent.

Stalk legged shrimp suckers painted the pink of nightmares smelling of shrimp flavored shit.

Giant, angry, birds with necks like leg warmers, malice in their hearts, the ability to kill a man with a single kick, and wings whose use ceased long ago.

Sharp beaked, blue-black, nightmare denizens who feed on the entrails of every neighborhood everywhere. Birds

Caged budgies and parakeets. Squawking and chirping for pellets and shitting on papers below. Clipped wings, every hint of poetry robbed by hopeless romantics who want to hold things they love close enough to render them toys. Playthings for fleshy earthbound giants desperate for connection. Stupid birds.

Give me turtles with shells that act as home, hearth, and shield. Give me dogs bred for faithfulness, cats who slink and purr, fish imbued with all the colors inside a wormhole. Give me Sea Monkeys who die before their novelty wears off, plants that listen to classical music, white rats with red eyes that know where things are. Just don't give me birds.

Flightless waterfowl, scratching barnyard familiars, sad warbling lake dwellers. Fuck'em.

Flight is a miracle and birds are the creatures who receive it.

I like chicken parm.



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