Those winged vandals pulled back the anti-bird barrier and built a nest in our eave.
We can’t evict them because they’re a protected species, so these damn birds, these damn jesters, are free to bombard my red car with their white waste.
But I still smile when I hear the baby birds vocalize their hunger.
They sound so plantive that I want to climb to our roof, lean over the eave, and feed them.
But I’m still pissed at the adult birds. And, as always, I’m jealous of their ability to fly.
Dear birds, you shitheads, you used to be dinosaurs. You lived here hundreds of millions of years before us.
So maybe we should be paying rent to you. Maybe we’ve invaded your eave. Maybe your wings will outlive our thumbs.
Maybe you’ll evolve into new birds that can breathe in outer space.
Maybe you’ll fly away from Earth as it dies. Maybe you’ll colonize a new planet. Maybe you’ll correct what we did wrong.
I love the possibility of a civilization where the only language is birdsong.
Beautiful...I am a 30y/o Native woman from Isleta Pueblo, and reading this calmly put my mind at ease. I've been so frustrated with the things happening around me, but I always try to remind myself that life is beautiful - even the things that we don't have control over can evolve into something positive one way or another. Thank you for sharing this :-)
I woke up, I dealt with some work shit from my email, which annoyed me, which reminded me of all the other things that annoy me, or hurt me, or get me angry...
And then I read this poem you put in my feed, and it reminded me that there is beauty and poetry and sadness of so much greater magnitude, it reminded me of so much that I know but cannot put into words, because, unlike you, I am not a poet. Thank you.