A Bird Upon Seeing Man
The direction is arbitrary.
As points on a map from a bird’s point of view.
Preening, it cranes its neck.
Picking out prickly spurs.
It doesn’t deign to bend to the whims of men.
It knows nothing of envy.
Bored it turns away.
Occupies its mind with other things.
It’ll forget about me.
Minds can only carry so much.
The burden of of merely living.
Too much even, for some.
There’s no shame in knowing your limit.
Only miscreants and fools would date to proffer judgment.
Their voices bear no resonance.
As they scream into nothingness.
It swallows it whole.
Drinking it all in.
As the sineater.