Friday, May 11, 2012

Feathers of Toronto

 

Toronto is a hotbed of waterfowl,

no joke; and shorebirds too, and birds

that just like the shore--

lunch gulls, hanging around patios

too large and club-like, scaring away

the softer cooing pavement birds of no brain.

The long-necked designer cormorants

striking poses in the late afternoon,

sun setting flatteringly behind them.

Long-tailed ducks no longer called

old squaws, keeping to themselves

far off in the water. Mergansers

flipping their hoods back confident

in the uniqueness of their bling.

Streetcars and cowbirds screech.

Stealth blackbirds rush you

for you are in their territory now.

I was from Alberta, once, and did not know

what a spit was. A spit jutting the city out

and keeping it still at bay,

a station where we stop a moment

to pick up quintessential inessentials,

feathers and hats, cashmere tufts to line

our nests against the concrete.

 

3 comments:

Polly said...

Fun and unexpected!

I like the streetcards/cowbirds contrast - is there a way to bring more of this collision/collusion of city and nature into the poem? You hint at how the birds are like the residents of the city, but maybe see them together?

The blackbirds/territory reference seemed out of place - why their territory more than any of the other birds?

Ariel Gordon said...

Hey Karen, I like this, though I'm not sure that the long narrow shape of the poem is the best container for this flock.

Since you brought up the spit in the first place, maybe talk up the fact that they're often created out of garbage. Def. nature/city collision!

Joanne Epp said...

I, too, had trouble with the blackbird line. Could the blackbirds connect with the dress/ fashion motif somehow? Which is neat, by the way. I also like the "lunch gulls" and "pavement birds of no brain."