there are bird baths

stone. marble. smooth.
splash wing & water.
sprouted overnight in my bed room like
great wide heavy mushrooms.
the bird baths are full of holy water.
the bird baths are warm
like pots of water on the stove 
ready to boil the feathers 
off visiting creatures.
when i was little my father built
bird baths in my room so that 
i would make new friends.
hawk. owl. vulture.
washing their faces in the pools
& yelling loud enough
to crack light bulbs. they never
let me sleep. they insisted 
on sharing secrets & washing each other
all night. i opened the windows 
& told them to get out but each day
they would be back some how & 
the curtains would blow open like flesh
around a wound. i tell the song birds
to whistle in the morning 
to wait for the song, but we're
all prone to loving the moon 
& that's what the blue jays 
& the finches sing to. i pick feathers
off the carpet. i splash water
in my face from the bird bath.
i consider climbing inside--
crossing my legs & sitting in the shallow
bowl of water. i know for a fact
that my father is in love with all birds.
i know that he lets them sleep
in my old bed room. the birds tell
me the whole story & they add
that i should be angry at him 
& that i should fall in love with my own birds
out of spite. to be honest i try
every single night. i stare at their faces 
as they splash water--
as they preen & some of them lay feathers 
on my pillow. i try to imagine
a future with a bird. it would have 
to be a vulture. you have to concede 
the pink skin
of their faces is almost human.
i caress their skulls & they thank me
for letting the bird baths grow.
i let them grow everywhere.
i'm open to considering a whole world
of bird baths--
up & down the street. i just want 
the birds to be happy.
i just want them to stop yelling
at the god damn moon 
yes we know it's glowing
yes we know it's beautiful & 
unreachable. 
yes we need it to be closer & broken down
into edible pieces. will you listen
to the sky for once? 
i'm sorry i should have
more patience. 
yes, yes i love the bird baths.
another blooms where my bed once was
& i know where i need to sleep
& i know what company i'll have
& my father is a bird sleeping
in another bath. he is a vulture.
black feather. hooked beak. 
wrinkled skin.