(Untitled)

By Stacey Berry

then i see the dead bird

blur the concrete turning underground

under feet

when his eyes reflect mine

the soft specks swamped in gold

to shift and shake souls

as I comb the city-slicked streets

looking for home

next to the garbage bin

we are both quickly dead

and i want to howl

us both alive

like wild women and coyotes

hunt for meat between their teeth

turn love so meticulous strange

into blood and guts nightmares

here only sidewalk death competes

with the ka-bang-way we once were

and now there is only me and this dead bird

the way memories resolve

brutal and upgraded

to their own dramatic ends

of eye lashes and winged things

the eccentricities of a life once better lived

than this.