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Pigeon Three
by Johanna MayWinged operants,
synapses conditioning:
a button dislodges corn.
Pigeon one pecks once
gets a corn,
Pigeon two pecks two
gets a corn.
Pigeon three pecks
and pecks and pecks
but gets a corn randomly.
Then reinforcement stops
whether the conditioned
columbidae
jabs the manna button:
Pigeon one and two
eventually stops
Pigeon three never—
like those plastic feeding birds
automaton to strings for pecks
—it bleeds the beak,
eyes glaze vacant, gone to wend
to a kinder realm of everlasting corn.
Pigeon heaven.
The cruel science of fatal hope,
The shape of desire
kilned as tidbits randomly:
irrefutably;
Love is a pigeon three. 01/31/2013 Posted on 02/01/2013
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 02/01/13 at 03:40 AM You certainly know how to turn a phrase and captivate every step of the way. Fantastic work. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 02/01/13 at 12:50 PM Only when we turn to war do we use our most unigue skills. We push the buttons men who in turn push the buttons of death. Psych 101 goes to gradschool and becomes Psych 999. Nich write lady. |
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