I’ve got two micro-poems in the latest issue of Four and Twenty (vol.3 no.3 – pdf) out today. There’s an untitled haiku on p5 and “Optimist” (another vulture poem) on p14. Go check it out. There’s lots of great micro-poetry there.
by James Brush
I’ve got two micro-poems in the latest issue of Four and Twenty (vol.3 no.3 – pdf) out today. There’s an untitled haiku on p5 and “Optimist” (another vulture poem) on p14. Go check it out. There’s lots of great micro-poetry there.
When the end comes, don’t
plant me in the ground, trapped
in just one piece of earth.
Why not leave me by
the highway for the vultures
and maybe for the crows
who will take my sleeping eyes.
Then, at last, I could soar,
finally fly on dusky wings
outstretched,
buried in the sky.
—
“Lines Discovered in an Aging Ornithologist’s Field Journal” was one of 3 poems originally published at Thirteen Myna Birds in July 2009. Poems don’t stick around long over there before they fly away, so I’m posting them here for those who may have missed them back in July. This is 3 of 3. It has been slightly modified from its original form. The others can be found here and here.
I’m continuing to dabble with audio blogging, this time seeing how it goes reading one of my poems. I don’t know how often I’ll do this, but it was surprisingly easy to get the reading. I even edited a little bit since I liked the end of one take and the beginning of another.
They drove down from some mega church in Kansas with signs reading, “God hates grackles,” and “Grackles spread disease & crap on everything.” One little girl with blond pigtails tied with blue ribbons carried a sign saying, “No more icky turds.” They marched up and down the street outside the capitol chanting verses from Leviticus about unclean birds, occasionally stopping to extol the virtues of godly American fried chicken and turkey club sandwiches. From their trees, the grackles watched with little interest. They heard the repetitive nuk-nuk-nuk of the chanters and wondered at the rusty-hinge noises they made on the street below but mostly, they preened their shiny purple feathers and craned their necks toward the open sky above.
This went on for most of the afternoon and as the heat increased, the protesters grew more desperate, more willing to go beyond the veil of free speech. One man cast a stone. There was a moment’s pause as the world waited for the grackles to craft a response. Seconds grew to minutes, and the protesters glanced at one another, nervous, waiting. Suddenly all the grackles exploded skyward in a storm of wings and wild hallelujahs. The protesters watched with squinted eyes as the birds flew ever higher, each beat of their dark wings carrying them deeper into the sky and closer to God than anyone on the street below could imagine.
Blinded by the summer sky into which the grackles had disappeared, the protesters fumbled for their signs, packed them back on the bus, cursing the ugly grackles for their filthy ways and for not being blue birds or cardinals. Resentful and wishing that they too had wings and beautiful iridescent plumage, they drove back north, never once leaving the ground.
—
“God Hates Grackles” was one of 3 poems originally published at Thirteen Myna Birds in July 2009. Poems don’t stick around long over there before they fly away, so I’m posting them here for those who may have missed them back in July. This is 1 of 3.
Two of my poems went live today at two different literary sites. Check them out and explore the sites while there. There’s lots of good stuff to read.
“An Economy of Language” which is part of qarrtsiluni’s economy issue. You can even hear me read it if you’re so inclined.
Untitled grackle stone, a small stone over at a handful of stones. This is part of my vultures & grackles series.
Another of my vulture poems has flown into the world. Check out “Good Authority,” which was published at Bolts of Silk last week while I was out of town.
Two of my poems and a short prose piece were published yesterday over at Thirteen Myna Birds: “God Hates Grackles,” “Lines Discovered in an Aging Ornithologist’s Field Journal,” and “Circling Vultures.” They are part of a series I’ve been working on about vultures and grackles called Birds Nobody Loves.
Poems don’t stay around long at Thirteen Myna Birds so check them out before they fly off into the ether. Be sure to look around and check out the other pieces in the current flight formation while you’re there as well.
In case you missed it, another poem from this series was published at Bolts of Silk last month (“My Tourist Yard“) and another, “Good Authority,” will appear there later this year.