Bird of War
Today let’s talk about the bird who wages his own war.
He flutters shades of late summer: cloudless sky, cornfields,
early-morning sun, asphalt.
He clangs his black beak against his cage in rapid fire, hurls
steel bowl to ground, a landmine of fruity pellets. His head full
of mischief juts to the hum of vacuum erasing siege.
Tomorrow he will drop the F-bomb and that man I live with
will laugh, issue a statement of non-accountability: “I never
actively trained him to say a word,” tossing a grenade
of dirty socks next to the bed. Several treaties broken as wars roar on.
Header photo by MabelAmber, courtesy Pixabay.