___KING BIRD
- 3 days ago
- 1 min read
By Paris Rosemont
~After Charles Bukowski’s ‘the mockingbird’
Oh, flitty little mockingbird—you pretty feathered fool
Your flaunt your plumage, plumped up breast—the perkiness of youth
Whilst in your bath you splash and play, the tom cat stalks and drools
His hunger churned for centuries: a hunter’s sabred truth
With patience he shall bide his time as you let slip your guard
Forgetful that the world is fraught with dangers under wing
The summer’s gone, and snow falls fast—an avalanche of shards
Primroses frosty underfoot—you’ve lost the will to sing
Your beak is clamped, your sweet neck wrung, you cry a muted scream
Shapeshifting through time-trodden tales; a multitude of forms
(As does the counterpart who seeks you out for wildling games)
A turtledove, a staggering swan, a nightingale forlorn
For in the end, it ends the same—with feathers snapped and plucked
The savage feline has his fill; the bird gets mauled and fucked