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Stolen By Birds


dr_con
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Stolen By Birds

 

The Latvian Mother

Trickster Feminine

tells the innocent

If you put salt on

a bird's tail

it freezes

and you

grab it

 

 

little crystals keep the weeds down

more than once shakers in the sandbox

 

Just before dawn

among redwood giants

a barrel-house cacophony

pins me to the floor singing

 

Wake up Wake up

sawing pitch steals sorrow

trills take joy

swoop and loops pull anger

caws cancel hope

The chorus cleaves both future and past

 

Leaving nothing but now

 

In the evening

among the river rocks

or the great green lawns

they might pass back

parts of this story

more truthful

than words.

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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Interesting reading Tony! Thanks for taking the time to engage! My take is more: Old Self/New Self/No Self ;-) But then again we're equals in interpreting some of Dr. Con's Madness;-) Juris

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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The myth of salt on a bird's tail was wide-spread, even in my youth. I remember asking my grandmother how I could get close enough to sprinkle salt on a bird. She gave me a quick look and said, "Ah, that's exactly the point."

 

A quick turn to sleeping off a binge, (perhaps a mental one) and waking to the destruction of ancient redwoods (symbols?) falling into the future, leaving its residents to circle empty space.

 

Still, the residue of the giants add/change the future.

 

Hell, Dr., just ruminating but very much enjoyed the tenor of the poem. I was once stupid enough to enjoy driving my car through a tunnel cut into a redwood.

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