(no subject)
"We ate the birds." -- Margaret Atwood
Last night, I woke up hungry --
hungry enough to eat
the canary above my grandmother's bed.
So here's what I did,
I tiptoed into the creaky wooden room,
climbed onto a chair,
and snatched the sleeping
yellow bird
right out of its cage.
This is the part where I stop,
see if people are believing
this tale of a midnight snack,
but it is about more than birds,
hollow bones, nucleated blood cells,
four toes, four chambered heart.
It is about how for those four seconds,
with the tail feathers in my mouth,
I could taste flight, and
it felt like cream cheese on a summer day.
Last night, I woke up hungry --
hungry enough to eat
the canary above my grandmother's bed.
So here's what I did,
I tiptoed into the creaky wooden room,
climbed onto a chair,
and snatched the sleeping
yellow bird
right out of its cage.
This is the part where I stop,
see if people are believing
this tale of a midnight snack,
but it is about more than birds,
hollow bones, nucleated blood cells,
four toes, four chambered heart.
It is about how for those four seconds,
with the tail feathers in my mouth,
I could taste flight, and
it felt like cream cheese on a summer day.