Red Tailed Hawk

The bird was on the ground

Feeding

In the shadow of a

Cherry Birch tree.

Black Birds were flying in squadrons

Circling

From the freshly green 

Early summer branches

Directly bombing

Attacking

The stoic predator

Then back up again.

The hawk was unphased

Focused on his meal

Ripping at the meat.

The continual besiege a minor inconvenience.

My first thought

Was he got an egg

Or a hatchling.

But then I remembered

Raptors are hunters

And like to catch their prey

In their talons

Still alive 

And squirming.

I moved closer

And found 

The bird

Pulling at the flesh

Of a freshly killed squirrel

Belly up and open

Red and white

Innards spilling.

Still...

The Black Birds came

In spirals

Choreographed.

Unrelentless

Hitting the enemy

From all sides

Snapping their wings

Pecking and biting.

A fearless ballet

To preserve order

And family

Protecting their young

Hiding under the wings

Of the mothers 

Trembling in nests.

Perhaps by instinct

The babies were noiseless.

The only constant sound being made

Was from the 

Male Black Birds

Flying in 

Screaming violently

At the top of their lungs

Trying to banish

The figure

Eating in silence

Alone

And not moving

Until he

Was done

With it all.

Pushing For It

There comes a point.

Maybe within

The clouded breath of a second

In the chilly fog 

Surrounding

The wet painted metal

Of riveted steel girders

And a thick wooden planked 

Pedestrian boardwalk

Of a bridge over a river

Late in the evening...

Or early in the morning

Depending 

On your body clock.

It might even be

That ‘see-saw’ moment

In the parking lot

Of a bar

In a downpour

Rain pounding 

On out-of-mind clothes

And just only exposed flesh.

Plummeting down

In unceasing 15 gallon tubs

On the hollow epidermis of cars

Like bullets and nails

In a sheet metal racket

Flooding

Ear chambers

With white noise

And the stripe painted asphalt

Of the parking lot

With inches of water.

A moment.

A dot in time.

No matter 

What the circumstances.

If you don’t

Take that chance

Then and there

And push things forward

You are doomed

Miseraby

And regretfully

To just being friends.

Bluejay

“SHIT!”

Something hit me on the head

Hard

WITHOUT warning

Grabbing my hair

Violently.

I heard wings thrashing

And shrill screaming.

He came at me again.

“SHIT! MOTHERFUCKER!”

Within seconds

He got me a second time.

I looked up to see him

Dive bombing again

Fast and determined

From a tree branch

About 15 feet up.

I didn’t have the seconds in me.

“SONUVABITCH!”

He got me a third time.

Now I was pissed

And I knew he was committed.

I grabbed a broom 

Off of the porch

And held it up in front of me

Eight feet up in the air

Like a divining shaman

Praying loudly.

“You muthafucka, cut that shit out!”

He dove straight for me

Again

Several times

But I got that broom in the way

And split him off.

He got wise 

Real fast.

He veered off sharply

Knowing that I was crayzee

And would knock the pasty white shit out of him

If he kept it up.

And

So it went like that

For a little bit.

Each of us testing

The other

Until we finally made peace

And settled things

Between us

Respectfully

And moved on

To the next chore

That needed to be done

Not bothering

Each other

At all.

Snapper

I saw him on the opposite side of the road.

He was a big shadow

In the light of the pavement

And as I got closer 

I could see that he was moving.

There was a bend just ahead

And I knew he didn’t stand a chance.

I spontaneously pulled over

While the driver behind me

Laid on the horn

Driving past.

There were no other cars.

I quickly found a stick

And moved towards him.

It was spring

And the only turtle crossing a road

Would be a male

Looking for a female.

It wouldn’t be for food

As there was plenty of that

In the stream and pond

Behind him

So I decided it would be better

To get him across

Than usher him back

As he would just be doing

The same thing all over again.

He didn’t like me at all

And he let me know it.

He arched his neck

Opening his vice jaws wide

And hissed sharply.

He was a big boy.

I played the stick in front of him

Tapping it on the ground

Then quickly moved it towards his head.

He took the bait.

He snapped at it

And got his teeth in real good.

I let him honker down

And picked him up

So frikken fast

Running him across the road

Before his claws could

Tear into my hands.

He was a BIG boy.

Just before he could comprehend

What was going on

And his talons 

Gained on my flesh

I dropped him into the grassy

Embankment

In front of my car

Parked on the other side 

Of the road

Where a female

Was waiting

Somewhere

Spared the sound

Of braking tires

And the cracking

Of an arriving lover’s shell

Ending his one great journey.

She would not experience

That kind of emptiness

As I watched him

Wood still in mouth

Move aggressively

As a turtle could

Into the protective underbrush

Of the paradise

That he so desperately sought

A mere 

Forty feet journey away.

We males

Will go to any lengths.

Even twenty feet

Of of well travelled unprotected pavement

To get what we want.

It’s dumb.

I know.

Nemesis

How do you greet

Your arch enemy

Sitting at the same bar

Ten feet from you?

Raise your glass

Smile

Shout and mouth

So even a deaf person

Knows that you are saying

“Fuck You!”

Take a sip of beer

And turn

Back to better folk

And wait 

To see what will happen.

Candyland

Candyland

She tasted like candy.

Valrhona milk chocolate

Covered in sweet n’ sour

Sugar dust.

Fresh apricot pate center.

Pretzels

And gumdrops

Wrapped around

In a blanket.

She tasted of limes

Turkish figs

Fresh ginger

And mint.

Creamy soft ganache

Spiked with cabernet

Or port brandy.

Mashed mangoes

Toasted pecans

And just-picked lavender.

Split open like a halved grapefruit

Drizzled

With local organic honey.

She went off like Pop Rocks

Mixed with Coca-Cola

On the end of my tongue.

The Apology Tour

He was a big rugged Italian motherfucker.

The nose and everything.

He got down on one knee

In front of the black chick

At the bar.

“Yo, Ricky! What the fuck are you doing?”
A friend behind him asked.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m on The Apology Tour. I’ll be right down.”

He was down on both knees now.

He looked up into her eyes.

“I need to give you a sincere apology for my behaviour the other night. I tried to express

  my love for you, which probably would’ve been better done in private than in front of

  150 people.”

Now there were only twenty.

“Please accept my apology for being such an asshole. Thank you. Thank you world for

  watching.”
He looked at all of us, then back at her.

Why are the biggest fuck-ups

The ones that we love the most

And find endearing.

I almost wanted to hug him.

But he was a big Italian motherfucker
Whose nose looked like
It took it's fair share of beatings.