15.4.10

Poem 46

Every day in every large urban centre
on the globe  hundreds of thousands of birds
crash into glass   attracted by the light
Surprised by the height   draped by fog or smog
A man in Toronto collects these fallen angels
Smooths bloodied feathers then disposes the hollow boned
victims of urban achievement   Bags  of them every morning
before gulls or commuters stare aghast for a split second
Before they enter the towers to perch themselves at desks
or cubicles with vistas they never notice.
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  • GO to: Paris. New York. Montreal. London. Tokyo. Amsterdam. Berlin. A blue collar bar. A cafe. Martini Bar. A Rainforest. A Desert. The Prairies. The Metro. A neglected cemetary. A casino. A used bookstore. A whaling town. Art Galleries. Readings. Walk for the sake of it. Go with a dog.
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