poems by tom miller
i once sniffed magic markers until my nose bled
i found a bluejay with a broken wingblack eyes following me-- looking
looking at me as i gently grasped
and her tiny heart racing with fear
are you my mother?
and put her in a shoebox
and drizzled milk across her beak
with a baby bottle nipple
lightly stroking its head with my finger
and asking aloud for the jay to survive
this randomness
perhaps through my compassion
it might fly again-- soaring above snow capped
mountains and bluegreen seas
and a few days later
she sang a note-- a beautiful note
stronger, little friend, i said
you will be in the sky again,
my glorious bluejay-- you will
rise above the city and to the
heavens
carrying, upon your wings,
your angel music, up to the
soul of god and into the stratosphere
and later, it turned out, i
drowned the poor creature with milk
too much milk,
and it died
i tossed it in the toilet
after an unholy shit,
and went to shoot me another one
my analyst says i shoot better
on prozac
the cat is throwing up
in the aquarium
otters live in my nut sack