Chicano Poet

Thursday, February 16, 2006

image thxs to chris murray at texfiles

Bird’s Eye View

Special from the Corpus Christi Caller-Times

A first person (read:quail) account of the Cheney Shooting

It was about five in the afternoon like in that famous Lorca poem
and I had already had my supper of dried seeds and a little worm
when I saw a bunch of old white men coming my way, they appeared
to be drunk on their ass, one of them was a bald son-of-bitch who kept
bragging to the others about how he was President of some country
or other. As they got closer I thought to myself these bastards are
liable to start shooting any minute and I don’t want to be around when
that happens. Too late. Just as I took to the sky that bald-headed bastard
starting shooting all over the place, some of my feathers fell off my ass
and some beebees bounced off my head, but one of the old men got it
right in the face and chest, I’m not surprised since he was standing
only about ten feet away. None of those motherfuckers seemed to give a damn
about me, they just rushed over to the old fella who was down and appeared
to be dead. They made a big deal about it, they took him away in an
ambulance, and then the guy that shot him kept on hunting until the
sun went down. The whole field smelled of alcohol. Anyway, my backside
is still a little sore, but my headache is gone, thank God-the-feathered-one.


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