Exercises In Logic

A thing can come from the sky and not be a bird.
For example,
the Great Siberian Fireball of 1908 came from the sky,
but was demonstrably larger than any common songbird.
It did not build nests,
but rather,
leveled all the trees in which nests might have been built.
Therefore, the Great Siberian Fireball was either
a) not a bird, or
b) a very stupid or careless bird, of tremendous size.

Art requires patience, but patience does not necessarily result in art.
Some things can be delayed, and still be attended to in good time--
the permafrost,
little villages,
this reporter...
won't we all still surely be here?
the morning is uncommonly bright,
that sable looks fetching on you, 
and the secret police have continued to document our love.

When you took so long to get here, I had my doubts, I confess.
I had my bags packed and was half way out onto the tarmac,
but their report is filed and they are pleased.
How do I know this?
Why, honey,
a little birdy told me.


hedgewitch said…
A lively interplay of elements makes this drily amusing but also a bit scathing around the edges. I've long felt that all surveillance is 90% extended opportunistic voyeurism, and the birds in this poem seem unconcerned about having their nests invaded or crushed--perhaps they are simply too resilient to let such things bother them. "Art requires patience, but patience does not necessarily result in art...I suppose the same can be said of love.
Mama Zen said…
This just slays me. Seriously.
Anonymous said…
From "Therefore" to "little villages" is extra engaging to me.

So, the relationship is the artwork. The one you're talking to is wearing black, so is either in mourning or pretending to be. If your love is secret, then maybe you're having an affair, you two have killed one of your spouses, and are currently under investigation. But it sounds like you've just been cleared if the report was filed and the police were pleased.

"A global temperature rise of 1.5 °C (2.7 °F) above current levels would be enough to start the thawing of permafrost in Siberia."

The fireball represents the temperature rise as you two sweat it out while being watched, waiting to see if you're going to get away with the crime. It sounds like it was a close call, but you've done it.

Or maybe it's nothing of the like. This is just my best guess. If I'm right, then maybe the crime is also a piece of artwork requiring great patience.
Sioux Roslawski said…
I can't help it. Whenever Siberia and love story intersect, I think of Julie Christie and Omar Sharif.

I know. Schmaltzy...
Kathryn Dyche said…
Tantalizing piece and I grew up constantly hearing "a little bird told me" . . . those birds sure do get around.
Cloudia said…
careless giant birdy!

ALOHA from Honolulu
Kerry O'Connor said…
Such a logical argument cannot be denied.

I loved this, Shay.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
I love it, especially the little birdy!
I like how you will the words to come down from the skies.
Sara said…
This poem made me smile when I got to the part about the Great Siberian Fireball being "a" or "b".

BTW I got curious about the GSF of 1908 and looked it up. I imagine it was rather scary at that time!!!

Joanna Jenkins said…
Ah, yes. The Little Bird.
Love that!
xo jj
Anonymous said…
These digo women would make a great topic for a poem, don't you think? Might you consider writing one?

Anonymous said…
ok, i am at my daily (weekly... yearly) limit of imbibing the ambrosia of your writing, Sis! best. poet. ever.

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