RED LEGS AND BEAK
- Apr 10
- 1 min read
By Liz Verlander
They tell me it is like flying.
I must, to protect their backs.
(Their precious backs
that turn me,
then turn away from me
leaving me to cook in this airless room).
In the patterns of the ceiling I see us
the day Lisa was born, remember you
telling Tom the stork had brought her,
recall him incredulous ,you so happy
you almost believed the lie.
“A stork is a large wading bird
with red legs and beak.”
Tom later read from his children’s encyclopaedia,
“It eats snakes.”
Then you saw your folly.
Nothing that ate snakes could bring such joy as Lisa.
The sling is dragged underneath my once body.
I listen to them curse the machinery,
and lie, awaiting my moment .
I am a urine soaked bundle
hoisted high by a mechanical arm.
I have found the stork.
It delivers death.