electronic bird sanctuary

we visit abandon
with feather handfuls.
a guest book of fingers.
haven't your hands ever
flown south for the winter?
the last bird lives
inside a labratory 
where, in virtual reality,
he thinks he's flying.
once, while rubbing my back,
you asked if you could plant a seed.
i refused but, while i slept,
you did it anyway. 
wings grew. i cursed you. airplanes 
mistook me for their children.
my talons glinted
in the light of a fake candle.
when i say "sanctuary"
i mean a museum. the difference
between being quietly watched
& watching quietly.
i flew above my life. you watched me
with binoculars. 
my eyes have cameras inside.
i take a video of you 
for a future generation
who wonders what we did 
to remember the birds.
we talk all night 
of building a structure for ghosts
to roost. instead, visit again
the mechanism. rivers of wings.
calling like children.
everyone is hungry. branches sit
like mother-shoulders.
a handbag full of bird feed.
holding hands underneath
a rusted sun. the birds 
are not real. have not been
for decades. i have a man come
dismantle my wings.
he does so with his bare hands.
i do not tell you. 
you have more seeds & more men.
the sanctuary glints.
a door knob the size of jupiter.
no one is awake but me.
i enter & i sit on the ground.
robotic wind. chain link gods.
the birds gather to greet me. 


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