quirky tile over the daybed vanishes

& then the fixture glistens & blisters

a funereal still life unveils itself

whiskey, the derringer & porcelain chips

birds' voices, thin but strong as wire

peal through the subzero environment --

a new world --

but then we find it's melting, out of control

& without parallel

                            moving vertically

like a window falling into chunks

the orioles swerve in strange trajectories

describing curves in the aether

with a series of simple adjustments

the feathers act as ailerons

allowing the birds to soar & plummet

the sofa is shoved up against the windows

permitting cloud-gazing

sometimes one can bask on green velvet

sunshine transforming the room

the orioles twirl & veer

for some reason unknown to us

they pursue their own pleasures

never guessing what intermittent

blurs their bodies make

on the surface of the naked eye

                                        sometimes

I think they're the only

reasons for the sky

being where it is &

looking the way it does

great adolescent blue gazing surface

across it move dark flecks

in perfect formation