Chicano Poet

Friday, April 11, 2014

Battle Of The Birds

I was fighting with the birds
when momma got the broom
my piece of the pie was a tire
I flung it at a girl
whose skinny legs spilled
out of her skirt
and into my heart

the birds had a stick
up their sleeves
they shared it with you
I was left in the dark
momma's broom was a heart
I wore in my chest
love is more than you can think

I was fighting with the birds
they blackened my arms
my eyelids full of blood
how sweetly they lifted the scorn
my girlfriend bobbed up and down
her mouth tasted of swamp
the dancing birds forlorn


Post a Comment

<< Home