15 Apr 2008

in the heart of the pigeon dark

this pigeon on my wrist is sore. looking like a recent escapee of an oil-slick zoo, cell-small machines swarm beneath the scaled hide. ragged feathers flutter disarrayed. in an act of generosity it has bared its machinery to me, and coos softly, melodically. the notes stroke my muscle weak heart. the concrete arroyo aswarm with pigeons. they coo and mewl across each other like spiders: here in the cut, in the blacktop scar, in the pigeon dark. the cut flutters with pigeons, and we race, you and I, with your soft goose-bumped skin meniscus-thin and our love pumping beneath it. we run in the tunnels and the sewage laps our heels with waves of roiling pigeons. a vast satellite hangs heavy and cruel up there in the firmament, a drop of saliva, a rolling horse-eye, and spider-like bionic spies skitter across our nerves. pigeons roil and snap like a vast flag. they hatch out of cysts in the walls, erupt from sewer holes. the swarm around on the pigeon queen’s rotund, egg-white belly. she erupts in screams, she moans and bleeds as her children explode from her bone beak. everywhere the albumen, their distended belly-eggs. we run with the heart in the sewers, while nervous webs collapse in the wave, while the placental fluid surges in the pulsing hollow. stomach acids and pigeon’s rheumy tears are streaming, yes, streaming, down the glistening concrete. pigeons are wheeling; here they come to swarm us. now they’re ratcheting us open, now they’re reading our guts with their sensitive beaks. now I love you and now I fear you, and now I roll your body out beneath their tiny talons. and you lean back and offer up your guts to their beady eyes, and sink into their egg-bellies, my gorgeous nerve spy, and the pigeons nestle up all the way into the nests of your guts.

2 comments:

kek-w said...

Ah, nice one, man....

Robert said...

whoa, John

back with a vengeance!