Embrace the Paradox

Scrubbed to Dead

Sitting on a park bench

Sparrows flitting about

Soft sound of feathers fluttering

They hover before me

Surprised, I hold my hand out, testing

Scaled feet curl around the fat of my finger

Reaching out to take a bit of cookie

So carefully, their beaks never touching my skin

I trill in delight as they jerk about

A serendipitous serenade that cannot be bought or packaged

While crows and hawks swirl high above

A maelstrom of wings swooping and whirling

 

It stares us in the face

We blank it out

The richness around us

The petty annoyance of life

Disturbing our stricken slumber

Too deep, too real

Repelled by the earth, confused by the taste

Pulsing muscle and embarrassing secretions

Subtle smells masked in disinfectant

The riling mess behind neat curtains

The squirming dirt beneath the new rug

So taken in by our difference

By the promise of our nervous chatter

 

I sit on a park bench

Others nearby lost in their phones

Hunched over in blue light oblivion

Kicking away the birds like trash

Designer dogs with shampooed coats at their side

Overpriced shoes jabbing at the air

Caught in the shallow thrill of forgetting

Lab rats pressing that lever for cocaine

Again and again until nothing remains

But this feeling that something is missing

That we are walking phantasms

Lulling ourselves into fancy objects

Waiting in vain for the shiny perfect gates of heaven

Scrubbed to dead smooth surfaces

Basking in our shopping mall dream