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DS Maolalai
The Cat-killed Pigeon
spring the sick wind
and tilt with wilting wildflowers -
birds debased
by song and ashen leaves,
and spiders
pulling their fat bodies
over bookshelves,
spinning
silver webs
and sticking them
with shapes of prey.
this is the day,
as seen
from the chair beside my window;
crows
savage with black murder
pulling the feathers
from a cat-killed pigeon
and an old man
upstairs,
obese, groaning under cider
and slices of toast.
life is a mangy animal,
cussing the road up
with spilled bags of groceries,
fish-eyes
lying flat on the ground.
life;
spitting out teeth like smashed kitchen tiles,
pieces of clocks
and rocking horses
and shoelaces
tied until they snap.
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