February 28, 2014

A guy in the bar stool next to mine
enlightens his companion to the
of our country's
energy independence,
using its own oil;

and the to the virtues of
nobly exploring new resource ventures
like shale fracking;

and to the scientific truth that all (if
any) variation in global temperature
is due merely to Earth's

I was giddy to join the conversation
--in fact, I almost did
a couple times--
But I didn't.
I didn't join the conversation,
and I bet that guy is out there somewhere,
still thinking he's not a
total moron.

The birds around here
They sure are
If I’m sitting outside it’s
all I can hear
Incessant tweeps and
chips and
chatter chatter chatter

Most of the time it’s nice enough
and I shouldn’t complain
In fact, it’s only really bad
when I’m trying read or write
or just think quietly by myself
That’s when they all come out
and gang up on me
from all sides
until I
think of any-
thing else.

At times I’ve felt insulted
like the birds of the world have
a personal vendetta
or a hit out on me

That smug, fat robin…

When I was really young
I recall chasing robins
in the back yard
I was sure I could get one
if I were a little quicker
or a little smarter
or a little more kind

I had no plan for the bird
if I ever got one
I’d cross that bridge later,
as they say.
But all I wanted to do was
hold them
or just one
My intentions were good, I swear
But the birds
they didn’t like that

And now
years later
The birds are all against me

I put up a birdhouse:
Nothing yet.

The birds

god, they’re beautiful

but they’ve all got

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