the hollowness of paper (20170907)

the crow pecks at the ground
slim pickings in this heat
he can remember when it wasn’t
too hot for picnickers
and little kids covered in pale sunscreen
half their faces hidden by too-big sunglass

he remembers pulling trash
from the cans at the park
especially after birthday parties
when there was the chance to find
a partial hot dog still in a bun
old dried cake with the frosting licked off
crepe streamers to spread on the grass
maybe some broken doritos

his brothers don’t know
how good they had it
and now drink water from the gutter
and peck among the slivers of
squirrel gnawed pinecones

he remembers a piñata
the sound of wood on hollow papier mâché
the glittering explosion of candy

for a moment he forgets to peck

10 thoughts on “the hollowness of paper (20170907)”

  1. splendid…i especially like the lines: “his brothers don’t know / how good they had it”, it gives this particular bird that ability to reflect which the others don’t have, so not only is there longing, nostalgia, but also that melancholy of being alone in longing and nostalgia.

      1. At first I was mad because I thought the people who threw the party didn’t clean up, but then we saw the crows throwing stuff on the grass. One was doing all the work and the other was egging him on.

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