*You can check out my latest series about a nomadic traveller under the must reads section—poetry, fiction and article sections are available on my homepage.
a bird flew away
my family had this pet cockatiel
we kept in a cage
with a view of the garden,
in a living room where we came together
as a family of six—ten
if you included the pets.
-
we included the pets
in all social gatherings,
a couple of ginger cats
who bit everyone’s nose,
a beloved bull terrier who farted constantly
and the bird.
-
it was more common back then
to own a tropical bird
with yellow crest that reminded us
of tribal Indians.
-
orange dots on each cheek
made me think of Pierrot clowns.
pantomime was a form
of entertainment back then
-
among the grey plumage
of middle England existence.
little—if anything happened
in a village of hard-working drinkers.
-
bird songs
we taught what we knew
through whistles and singalongs
on a Saturday night
not long after, the national lottery
had shattered another million hearts.
-
once a curry or chippy or Chinese
had settled somewhere deep
inside our bloated stomachs,
we would kick out the cats
and let Merlin fly free.
-
Merlin, he really enjoyed
shitting on us
and moving from shoulder to shoulder.
he would nibble on an earlobe,
wooden picture frames
pages of Albert Camus and Jean Genet.
-
anyway, he’s gone now
somewhere beyond the cage
we kept him in
for most of a decade.
-
it happened one summer’s day
after he was left on a patio
in our fenceless garden.
Nadia I missed you and am glad you are back and ok 💖
Oh, the end is so poignant and transporting. Also the farting dog, who doesn't love that? Hah!