Monday 24 September 2012

Pigeon Poetry


A man leaves a roadside cafe at dawn. He has a pigeon in his eye and floats feathers on his tongue. The sky forms itself into pigeons and swoops down to meet him. The man yells, "Behold! Behold!" Up above, a new kingdom of clouds is anti-celestial. Hands take a chainsaw to history which reforms as a puzzle in space. More children are born with herring in their eyes while ancestors weave nets to catch them.

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