Saturday, September 4, 2010

Birdcage

I'm okay with dying
because one day
Tyrannosaurus Rex's will nest in the spot where my bike used to sit
brand new and rusting.

I live in a time of domestication-
metal has time to solidify and we take for granted the ability to change water from cold
to hot and back again with a turn of the wrist.

Caging of birds stunts growth but makes sweet music in the morning.

I'll keep you-
cover you in blankets at night and contemplate setting you free
when your bird songs sound like wails and I'm trying to sleep.

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