the Nixionary

There are some things under cars
striking and unexpected.
This morning,
a bird dragging his hind legs
like bendy toothpicks
soggy and stuck to the gravel ground,
made a wing on cement sound–
so delicate and furious
so dying to lift, and loud,
I felt my ribs crush under
the same stilled rubber.
Only, how much I felt
made me oddly faster.
Other than frustrated birds,
children seem to make their recent
frequent appearance
as plastered remnants,
imprints of our obsession with speed.
We go too fast in our pods,
and miss not only the kids
but the process.
Behind the wheel, I feel more metal than
flesh, and while everything blurs past
I am nothing but air
eating air—
ruining slow—
swallowing gravel seeds.

Tags: Thoughtful Thoughts (aka PO-AMS)103 Comments