i.
with the fear of icarusing as a hidden lid
the birds all fly off I stay with feathers
heavy & small legs rooted beak reaching
the closet of twigs I would have made
would be opened inside - chinese model ships
with japanese on their sails french perfume
from dubai airport belgian chocolate
seas horses 6 mixed flavors about 32 chocolates
much there-aboutness of my beak
to the fruit flying fish reaching tantalizing.
ii.
it is raining.
only the elders of the desert chant when it rains.
they're birds falling in drawn dark drops
the crows were cawing at noon
as if they had a featherin the snow of the sun's peak.
water in the heat floods.
I am rising the nest floating & little boats trying towards it.
iii.
like a science project the universe is falling
drop by drop moon-dead-weight planets flagellated
grabbing whatever it can like a baby bird with gravity arms.
there were actual drops of water pity on the elders' faces
as they hooded up against the desert wind.
the nest is rising still & distant familiar voices dock
one by one by one.
~Ajay3/9/2019
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~