A Natural Bird

1. The Latter Days

The things around me haven’t changed a bit
But I do not feel any longer the things I have felt
Nor do I chant any longer the chants I have chanted
The immutable nature of things has immutably changed.

I certainly keep on migrating but
They now have me seated in sort of an airliner.
It’s not my wings, not my ilk any longer, the terns
Have ceased to be my winging companions, a
Craft moves for me that am quietly inside.

Sky is closer than ever and through the porthole
I look down on lush landscape as poignant as never, yet
Progressing I might loll inside that crate.
I do not feel any longer the strain I have felt
Nor do I chant any longer the chant I’d have chanced
I do listen to plane ear candy. Great!
I am attended, by the aisle. Do I grimace?
Am I comfortable? Yes, lukewarm, thank you.
A slight breeze... Adjust the air nozzle, bird. Oh, I am
Still part of the living, no doubt, I am feeling
Ho-hum as hell high up over the rainbow.

Human interference mutes divine into demoniac
Silenced exertion and silent destruction
Life’s inventions dull life into less.
That’s why we live so long.

Once again perambulated.
Recurrence of early adventure, things
Haven’t changed a bit, no thing is for granted, especially now.
So, a crash wouldn’t even be my fault.
It wouldn’t be anything.


2. Plain Logics

When a plane falls out of the sky
It is because flying isn’t natural
Flying has been invented
Flying is an achievement
Achievements are reversible
Each plane dropping off the sky is a
Reversed achievement.
Life itself is an achievement
While growing old is
Irreversibly natural, though
Only science advances toward the better
Chirp chirp.

Me as an old crock in an aircraft – an
Achievement or just something natural?
An airliner crash when I’m doddery by nature:
Is this luck, or achievement, or matter of course?
Am I simply growing flier by growing older?
Tweet tweet.

My bedroom faces west.
I don’t see the morning sun, but I don’t see
The evening sun either;
It is night when I’m going to crash.
Whatever still happens, happens among the shades
I am closer to sundown than ever
I am comfortable.

Still some chirping and tweeting in the dark, you
Consummate deplumate?


April 28, 2010

Down Comforter on Analytic Couch