i'm thinking back to when we were young and eating donuts with a set of plastic vampire teeth that we were passing back and fourth. we weren't so young as to think a dog was a horse. nor were we old enough yet to name the cold purpose of musical chairs. we were like-minded spirits ekeing out a rhythm whispering transmissions through wet winter mittens. growing up on toboggan hill nothing was material.
i'm thinking back to when we were young if only to find out forensically what it was we used to want.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
my parents told me i could have a little bird. they told me to behave & if i did they would bring one home. & i would put it in a beautiful gold cage lined on the bottom with yesterday's newspapers, always yesterdays, 'cause i would change them everyday.
already there was a little bird i wanted, small & brown, he sat outside the kitchen window sometimes. he didn't sing, not noisy & brightly coloured. i loved him. if you broke up your sandwich crusts & left them on the sill he would always come for them.
i wouldn't lock you up small & brown! i would let you fly around our house & bring you sandwich crusts, always. but you would remember me, you would!
you would fly right down next to my eye & give me a stare so strong that i would just know right away how much you loved me.
he would have been such a perfect bird & i was sure to be on my best behaviour always. i even forgot about biting my fingernails. but they brought home a different bird. it was yellow & had a funny name.
they told me small & brown birds were only for looking at. i started eating my sandwich crusts again. this bird made too much noise & i hated it.