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Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Flying Away in Pieces

Waiting For Payday
"The birds do their work
in seconds and fly away...
The only witness
is the white sea bird."
He doesn’t belong
on that bird filled fountain,
but he watches the antics of
black feathers and red feet
around his legs.

The other, smaller, twittering,
flittering birds of all the dusty,
dirty shades in a smog tinted rainbow
amuse the man with their twittering-flittering
and click-clicking.  He rips a thumb
sized piece off the full roll he
would have thrown away.

Little beak and little wings are barely
able to snap the bread off the table.
The bird wobbles in the air under the
weight of the bread. Other twitters
dive at the lucky one; they all hope
to win the prize. 
A full stomach is a full life.

The man watches as the bread is knocked
to the ground.  The black feathers own it now.
The man lets out a roaring laugh.
As the last chuckle leaves his throat
a snow white sea bird with pink toes and
pink beak swoops down, cawing in human tones
as it captures the prize.

Arcing back into the air the bread bobs
down the inside of the bird’s neck.
The black feathers and the twittering-flittering
learned long ago not to look up and
wish for what is gone.

No longer amused, the man tries to shoo away
a twit peddling peace of mind through charity,
hope through a handout.  Unable to dispatch
the twit and unwilling to endure beady stares,
the man rises to leave.

Another lands on his nose. The man snuffs and
puffs trying to blow the little thing away but
the bird pecks at his eyes.
Blinded and in pain
the man drops to the
ground and is
dumped upon by
the flocks of birds.

The birds do their work
in seconds and fly away.
The cleaned bones
clatter to the ground.
The only witness
is the white sea bird.

He already has a full stomach,
full life.
So he leaves,

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0   

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