Friday, August 3, 2012

A Bird on Acid

A bird flutters to a bird bath,
sips,
       falls in and drowns.

A pair of wrinkled old hands
   delicately pick apart
           the sinew, joints, wing and bone.

A pair of puckered lips,
 press flesh to tongue
    swallow. Gentle.

And Miss Plath the nurse says 'Don't put that in your mouth dear, it's already dead, come inside and get a towel.'

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