To no fool but me
That Fool Bird
Like that fool bird down Baton Rouge who
called for a mate who would never come,
this one sings all night without no hurricane
to save it from its own lonesome fool self.
One cheet-a-weet after another, each phrase
different than the one before like he was
interviewing for branch manager or auditioning
for a solotet. From below, traffic hums gears
in harsh profundo to his steely avian contralto.
He’ll go all night because what else can he do?
Who else will he keep awake writing fool poems
about fool birds that sing to no fool but me? Then,
from nowhere, an answer comes from the night.
How that fool bird made it all the way here
is beyond me.
called for a mate who would never come,
this one sings all night without no hurricane
to save it from its own lonesome fool self.
One cheet-a-weet after another, each phrase
different than the one before like he was
interviewing for branch manager or auditioning
for a solotet. From below, traffic hums gears
in harsh profundo to his steely avian contralto.
He’ll go all night because what else can he do?
Who else will he keep awake writing fool poems
about fool birds that sing to no fool but me? Then,
from nowhere, an answer comes from the night.
How that fool bird made it all the way here
is beyond me.
Joseph Gallo
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013
post-time 12:33 AM
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