birds are the souls of the dead
some people buy that
he didnt
it only occurred to him this
sunny afternoon as he stood on the porch at its railing reading the end of
White Noise a murder attempt gone awry the shooter a latent hero German nuns
defending their faith This is why we are
here. A tiny minority. To embody old things, old beliefs. The devil, the
angels, heaven, hell. If we did not pretend to believe these things, the world
would collapse(page
318).
the world would collapse if some people didnt believe birds were the
souls of the dead
a hummingbird shot down out of
the skyhe didnt see from where he was
pretty sure Gawd didnt let loose an arrow an miss
it fed at a feeder beside
his knee on the other side of the threebythree pickets where he hung it
he couldnt think of one person
who he knew in life who was dead who could streak like a hummer or hover midair
while they fedwhaddahell stroke
the air with their wings hundreds of times a minute a thousand times no one he knew
he didnt know one whoif they fell
overboard from a liner in the middle of the ocean would tread a thousand
strokes to mitigate their drowning
Why
their big brains knew they were
in the middle of the oceanwould be unmissed for hours an pushed by the current
lapped by waves they also knew nothing was static at sea it wasnt like
disembarking from a car leaving the highway for an unwanted destination an
waiting on anothertheir thumbs stuckout in hope that the next ride would actually
take them where they wanted to goHallelujah
or at least get them within one last hitchhike
they werent retards
treading water in the middle of
the ocean for hours a daydays! an exercise in futility
they didnt exercise
fuck
why would they start now
accountability is a bitch
an sometimes
accountability was death
it was a good run
regrets were useless
werent gettin a do-over
whodathought
fish food
no fish food souls dont become birdsthey dont get
to soar they get to cuddle with whale
shit in unmoved prehistoric mud
they didnt want to go on the cruise
anyway
they let themselves get talked
into it
they lied to themselves
thatll learn
em
birds are birds
not romanticised souls
the possibility of romancesex was probably the
slender straw that broke the camels back an got em drowned in the middle of
the ocean at night phosphorescence like a blanket or halo glowing
around beneath them fuck a deep breath of salttangy air cleansing
probably a hysterical laugh a sputtering exhalelungs emptying empty heavy
then diving downclawing deep deepdeeper
AIR! they cant shaddup their
brainits wants to livethey reversethey try to swim back up to the surface its black
now
they blackout
1431, Thursday,
1 2. 18
1036, Friday.
2 2. 18
