a fat bluejay walking
through the rain gutter
is more important
than the radio
I won't listen to it
anymore and scream at it
as Anthony said, driving
through Los Angeles screaming
at his radio
I'm tired of violently buttering my toast
in the morning
the bluejay creeps
to some assignation
he has planned, breathing
shallowly, in his breast
the systems of the hard
and soft sciences are waiting
some of the leaves are lit up
from within, everything
else is in shadow
and moving
dark and moving
this is where I live and work
by Matthew Rohrer
published in sixth finch
really enjoyed that poem. thanks