oh this is so lovely. i just found it today, not even looking for it, not even thinking about birds at all but just reading along in a book called winter sex (katy lederer) which sounded like fun but turned out to be a very beautiful thing. this is one of the beautiful things in that beautiful thing and this is the one i want to share now (more later, i promise, i swear to you, so no requests necessary, i'm on it, on top of it, totally in control).

ODE

The intelligent bird is blue. The intelligent bird is half human.
That smart blue bird in that tree is like a whip.
The smart bird is true and desirable.
That is a feathered friend I'd like to have.
His feathers reflect the day's glare marvelously.
They add a blue shade to the scenery of the day.
In the fall it is beautiful -- this tinge of blue reflected in the day.
The bird is full of strange habits.
It nips at its backside and squawks.
It nips and paces back and forth on its branch.
I wonder if it is my admiration.
No. It is simply the beauty of this intelligent blue bird.
This bird is desirable.
I've touched it when a child.
I've touched its scalp and wondered -- this intelligent bird is so calm in the morning.
It is a pleasure to hear it sing. It is a pleasure to lavish attention on this bird.

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Now another poem, not by miss lederer. I thought this one would be scrapped by now, but it's not. and it has very little to do with birds outside of its title, but i thought, hey, what the hell. why not misrepresent myself as an artist today --

LoveBird

I spent the bulk of this morning
Fucking you. Fucking stars.
Fucking both out of cosmology
And teeth. Ears. I fucked them
And fucked them until they
Were so blue as blue as protons
And me. I did this until dusk
When I remembered that you
Cannot fuck an already-dead

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