poems by tom miller

i once sniffed magic markers until my nose bled

i found a bluejay with a broken wing

black 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