Prose Poem: Dead Birds.

 

I ran into Brad in the lobby of our apartment building.

He was getting mail.

So was I.

"Long time no see" he said, smiling.

"Many moons" I replied.

"Been keeping busy?" he asked.

"Not so much. Taking it easy." I said.

"How about you?" 

"Oh" he said, "just hanging around the apartment.

"Haven't been out for a month."

"Nowhere?" I asked.

"Nowhere" he said.

"I keep up with the world online,

like everyone else I guess."

I pulled my mail out of the box,

ripping it nearly 

in half.

"Did you hear about the dead birds

in New Mexico?" he asked me.

"Seems I heard something like that, yeah."

"Well,' now he was off and running.

"Well, there's all these dead birds falling

out of the sky -- and nobody knows why"

"Izzat so?" I said.

"Sure" he kept on going. "Scientists

say it's climate change and air quality."

"Canaries in a coal mine" I told him.

"Wazzat?" he asked, looking very puzzled.

"Skip it" I said. I wanted 

to go get dinner.

But Brad was not done.

In fact, he was just warming up.

"They can't dig mass graves fast enough

for 'em" he said in what he must have thought

was a sepulchral voice.

"It could cause some kind of avian flu,

on top of the virus" he said.

"Oh, I bet some of 'em are just stunned;

they'll pop right up again and fly away"

I said, easing towards the exit.

When it looked like he was going to 

follow me out, to tell me more,

I said in a stage whisper:  "Maybe

they'll turn into zombie birds. Who

knows what those crazy scientists 

have released into the atmosphere?"

He looked startled, then worried.

Without another word he ran to

the elevator and was gone.

Good riddance.

I don't need paranoid hermits

just before a meal.

The chow mein takeout

around the corner is quite good.

So I stepped outside

and was hit on the head

by a falling magpie.

Then another one fell at my feet.

"Good gravy!" I exclaimed.

Both of the magpies got up,

shook their wings, and looked

straight at me.

I recognized them:

Heckle and Jeckle,

the talking magpies

from my childhood.

"Get wise to yourself, Mac"

said one of them.

"Yes, old bean" said the other.

"It's Area 51 all over again!"

That was enough for me.

I went back inside and took

the elevator up to my apartment

to open a can of sardines.