• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 03
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Bird in Blue

It’s not one of Brâncuși’s
with their weighted brass

bases rising curved into space.
Polished to a kind of intimate

invitation that speaks
to the smooth-skinned

among us: surely
that surface would suit

the palm of your hand.
No. This bird is flimsy, flat

with the suggestion
of wrinkles, illusion of wind

pushing it northward, off course,
but not—we’ll concede—unpleasantly so.

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