it's true, I can kill a bird
everytime I shut my eyes
no need to deny or blame
circumstances, someone else

I let the most precious soar high
even when it makes no sense
but gravity doesn’t change sense
when metallic birds of pray lift off

nothing lasts
mountain spines implode
when magma bits into their soles
closing eyes doesn’t forestall

sooner or later
the phantasm will dare fly through
viscous retina, fatigue is natural
regret, useless

how many times
have you seen a tarred bird
survive?


(Published in "The Broken City Magazine", 2010)