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Impressions of a Bird Song

Its wings spread wide,
feathers like spikes
to frighten or chide.

The eye shocks,
suddenly fierce.
With violent squacks

its cries pierce
twilight: it hurls
and chokes its curse

on impudent squirrels,
on sparrows, dumb
churls whose demurrals

free bread crumbs.
A man leans back,
laughing. He becomes

the sound it crackles,
the death-song of grackles.

 

by Ben LaVergne


Original bio from the Fall 2013 edition:
Ben LaVergne is surrounded by books he never reads. Now that he has a Kindle, he can ignore his unread library without ceasing.

This poem first ran in the Fall 2013 edition of Grub Street Grackle. It appears here online for the first time.