There is a Bird

I know there is a bird

sitting on the trough

that gathers rain

from the covered porch

at the back of the house

the rain that falls when it wants

to fill these small rivers

that become larger rivers

This bird is there

if only for a few minutes

before he flys away

to poo somewhere else

because that is how I knew

he was there

Suddenly a white glob

dropped through my

line of sight

between me

the air in the house

the double pains of door glass

the screen on the door

the air on the porch

the screen on the porch

me looking at the tree

and poo falling to the ground

from the ass of a bird

Oh Bird with poo of white

please take your unclean ass

to another porch

where there aren't poets

who see everything

and dream of a world without

white poo

It wasn't what I wanted to see today

I'd had thoughts of living on the prairie

while putting a bedspread in the washer

living alone on the prairie 500 years ago

trying to survive the hail and the winter

Instead

oh imageless bird

because of you my thoughts

are of poo

now poo on the prairie

herds of great pooing buffalo

and one dumb naked poet

dodging enormous flops of poo

hail stones and winter snows

and it's not even time for cocktails

Copyright (c) 2012 by Barry G. Wick