Eastern Bluebird Poem by Jonathan Andrew Perez

i.
Chaotic shifting skies, aliens or clouds,
Or, a comic book superhero.
Blows a few planes from the bank, like folded cuts of fragile origami
metallic multitudes flung silvery-broad belly frames.

ii.
Side by side, the things caught the wind again,
Regulated the ungoverned sky, to tame,
Us. Unidentified flying objects, saucers, sorcerers,
their jet-tails have the inference of foreign forms of texting,
Will they be as fair as we?
Pitilessly, side-by-side, air travelers, commuters of communes we know nothing about.

iii.
Its late January, and the Bluebirds have settled in the air fields.
They air-traffic what it means to be home alone,
they are compliance officers
For what is allowed to crawl back in the atmosphere, & watch in synchronicity.
Others, they do their own reconnaissance missions:

iv.
The UFO's taxonomy: War, Constitutions, Jails, Institutions, micro-seconds
They sip up the Classical Arts: Picasso, Bach, Piano Concerto No.20 by Mozart
Us: weaklings.
But now, Dunkin Donuts is closed, the Starbucks employee
has counted the change; its 2 am & with felicity
the watchers outside have been scanning me like a barcode
waiting to upgrade my flight.

A thought pops in my head, secretly:

v.
Take me, take me,
Away on your bow a distant Orb, tossed in the green water
of your planet. I will navigate the palisades of unrecognizable skies.
Take me from the pain of climate change, racism, love, inadequacy, financial insecurity, ethnicity.
Years later I will have forgotten that I disavowed earth,
with exacting fragmentation.

Then it came to me: the towers across the bay
in a certain light
Look like unidentified flying desires.

The Eastern bluebird has lapsed the bay.
We return to our nightly segmentation from our takeoff strip.