Daphne-Du, I hope you’re looking on, listening in. Here’s another sunshiny gathering of nature’s own.
In this case, it ain't sing like the birdies sing, it’s:
Flock this, baby, Polly’s got your cracker right here.
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In the remote seaside castle
The imprisoned monster suffered the free tides' coming and going.
Imprisoned for longer than he could remember,
Patiently, hungrily, his murderous countenance shadow-waited his chance
To kill the giant man-woman pair of sadistic guards,
Whose own savage deviations registered historically incomparable.
But with one jailer lulled into believing the posed celldoor locked,
He awaited the return of the second jailer to finally begin reparations for his time inside.
His blood-heat rose at the sound of the approaching captor,
In his mountainous slagheap of revenge amplification
He had showered in copious puddles
Of imagined slit-gullet, foaming, bubbling giant blood-rain.
Embracing each other, the guard-giants instantly molted their body-masks.
Color-less alien nudity. Skin and hair, shed of false plumage.
They regularly lay coupled in front of him to spike his jealousy.
The killer, insulted to a rage, watched them grapple shamelessly
For long pointless minutes past sanity in sloppy connections at his feet.
But he didn't trill-scream his usual curses at them today.
Now was the moment, the killer knew,
Tolerating his impotent invisibility to them nevermore.
He spread his wings and gathered his rage.
He dived at them as if he were a rocketing hawk-wedge of vengeance
Propelled with the nova-furnace hate
Of his freedom so long denied.
With his heart revved to its shattering point,
And in a frenzied, flailing strikeout of claw and beak
He hit alien flesh and momentarily, triumphantly, did taste their blood.
He had driven his fury into their unguarded moment
--And died barely achieving their attention.
Victim of a "what the hell" crushing rollover by the man giant.
But others had fared better in the Sonoma beachhead.
The bodycount of giants was substantial.
Except for the naked, startled, bewildered and slightly bleeding, couple
Bending over their dear birdy’s body.
But then came the hurtling thumps at the door,
And thumps against the walls,
And from the attic, a splintering door and the second wave.
Birds of every kind, birds of every sort and color, birds with only one purpose.
Beaks. Talons. Hooking small flesh pieces and tearing.
The naked thrashing giants rolling and screaming from their knees.
And lastly their final questioning, surrendering carrion flat eyes
Oblivious to the myriad perched and fallen demons filling the castle by the sea.
Ó Evan Myquest, February 1999
