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Birds Shooting Birds
A blue bird
Perched up
Park bench style
adjacent to a taco stand
practices her hand stands,
Living here for precisely three months
The bird had the urge to munch
Mexican cuisine that fell out of the mouths
Of passerbys
The twenty-something's
And mid-teens chewing haphazardly,
The bird had big dreams
And little wings
To carry her from tree to sea to
me when I worked downtown,
When she was pushed out
She swooped down
And gave the prettiest little
Bird finger to
Bird Memaw
And Bird Pepaw,
The bird shot a bird
Not because of the irony
But because of the freedom
Of chains unshackled,
The tough times tackled
By little rhymes about birds
Is enough to to curd the loins
Of any soul sucker bent on success,
A lesson I learned in bird droppings
That slightly have the smell
Of guacamole
