To myself without whom not
On the occasion of my birthday
**
With this anniversary I accept
my avian better half though the
human half be allergic to feathers
wedded to an inhaler plumage
still embraced in spite of
di
vided
self
The hard beak gently preens eyelashes
one by one each hair
The odd eye-stare the bobbing the
jerky head especially when walking
less so when hopping
do you even notice?
To hear
the head tips to one side then
the other
It is all
sound that is out of
balance
I sing to windows from forests
to rooftops from street puddles
I bathe in mirrors of sky
Trite to say it
grand to do it
Rumor has it that I once was a reptile
Maybe
And so too are you disguised
two legs thickly meated of the
ubiquitous hairs everywhere
inflated eyes up front not much
perspective or balance
like a weak pine you fall more than I
but when I do it's on purpose (unless
it's for love) without complaint of the
air which never fails
Air
that is
Just to be clear
Just to be clear I am at home wherever I
land scanning available horizons which are
also always home
High
Low
Vertical is
the thing
And Spin
Speed goes without saying
Greatly fond of Drift
I am easy in the
Updraft
I will not speak of dawn's greatness
how you quickly forget
You say that I repeat myself often
am limited in expression to only a few notes
clipped patterns in the song the cryptic
call always an ellipsis
Boring you say
Interpretations really
it's all in the inflection
after all the years now
Now
there's always the dancing too
in powder blue without shoes or
need of them
claws nicely do the
deed is done the changeling comes
note that I am singing to you how
the way it's done
I tell you the weather but do you listen?
For love
shall I say it again?
I shall say it again
For love I leave calligraphy in guano
everywhere
but you do not read it much less see
that there are its messages all around
And still I am with you trying
to wake you I peck I scratch
I even dance again a frenzy
brightly ruffled boasting to impress:
I can lay an egg! You?
Words only
Brittle sticks
but none to land on
or perch
Standing on one leg
head beneath a wing
I
Am
So
Tired
I
can't close my eyes
what wings also are for
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem