Everything I Know About Robins
The robin opened
its beak and said
“oiseau, oiseau”
as I walked past.
I was dreaming
and when I woke up
I went to the park
and saw a robin
sorting through some trash
presumably for its nest
and I thought, ewww.
And A. told me
that robins
in the Old Country
are much smaller
are actually
a different species
and when his father
came to America
and saw our fat robins
he thought, Fucking America,
even the birds
are prosperous.
And I know their eggs
are blue. So their babies
are not afraid of the sky.
49
This guy unloading a truck
at the grocery store talking
on a slightly out of date
headset with a vehemence
suggesting on the other
end is someone who gets him
and that he is an asshole
I admit I smirk at him
who am I? Oh hello there
welcome to this long poem
written on the coldest day
anyone can remember
follow me into the store
where I show great self-restraint
I only shop from my list
I linger just a little
in front of the seafood case
I hear what sounds like a wolf
or it is ghostly echoes
of all the former live things
arranged in cold pyramids
Gliding down the aisles, for that
is how it feels not breathing
as deeply as I’d like to
I think I hear artichokes
and the flayed wheat in crackers
still crying out, I have read
too many books, and I dream
And in dreams everyone comes
together in a landscape
that’s entirely alive
standing by the dream harbor
the sea and the ships on her
and the stone streets are alive
that’s why we call the sea She
I put in a plastic bag
8 limes, even the plastic
was alive, it used to be
pre-cambrian vegetables
one of the books I just read
said Nature’s just separate things
in my pocket my phone beeps
S. doesn’t need a ride home
she’s punishing herself for
being unhappy, not me
I like to lie on my back
waiting for the clouds to appear
or walk through the park beneath
an arbor that’s in full leaf
The trees circulate tree blood
and send neurological
impulses just like we do
only slowly, so slowly
and in mysterious ways
using their roots the trees speak
and all the other trees nod
Empty shelves in the meat aisle
are a relief, the weather
must have slowed deliveries
and you don’t need me to say
what is too easy to say
about animal pieces
stacked up in cold pyramids
The guy from the truck walks by
getting yelled at by his boss
ill-advisedly I look
at his face, there’s, in his eyes,
the look of some animal
that’s usually quite fierce
but now is wrapped in plastic
…..
Sorry, I had to eat lunch
which gave me a chance to think
more about that last image
I hear the famous German
filmmaker describing bears
in that line, how in their eyes
what you’re looking for’s not there
Then my body dropped from cold
standing in the check out line
muttering and head shaking
I righted myself and paid
white dust lay across the streets
but it hadn’t snowed it was
just a prophylactic salting
Driving home the radio
says stay indoors, I’m wearing
gloves the steering wheel’s frozen
inside the cemetery
all the bones are extra cold
but they don’t care, who they were
they never felt cold like that
And also, where did they go?
I know it’s boring to ask
it’s somehow beyond our grasp
sitting with my blinker on
waiting to turn left I watch
the bare trees blown by the wind
it’s possible they’re dreaming
