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l a n d i n g
by Johanna MayThe word meant I was a ghost
floating along Vancouver,
Surrey, Langley, White Rock…
by the Quay scaring pigeons.
A clanking of chains
if you listen closely,
or an umbilical siphon
that feeds me guilt from a mother wound.
A pulsing, beating, pus of sadness,
sepia kaleidoscope of faces,
and things
unbidden from the insula.
Welcome to the ether interview,
ghost seat no. 22.
Are you Married?
Have you ever been convicted of any crime?
Have you ever been asked to leave the country?
*stamp stamp*
Welcome, you can walk on your two feet now
and be visible to the rest of the citizenry
you’ve just landed
Outside walking to catch a train,
a pigeon lands to peck a crumb
this bird that is countryless,
treeless, homeless,
but claims all countries,
claims all trees,
and claims all homes.
01/13/2013 Author's Note: inspired by Eman Lacaba
Posted on 01/13/2013
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/13/13 at 05:11 PM Birds know little of country. They know what they need and move to get it, unlike humans who rarely know what they need except for those so poor they only search for food or shelter or both. |
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