Anthropomorphic

 Anthropomorphic

 

I come across two courting birds -

well that’s anthropomorphic, for starters,

two young flirters –

not that I really know they’re young, of course,

but he’s sidling up to her

with a sideways beak and cat’s cream purr

as if he’s been sporting claws

for all these wasting years

that have yet to pass him idly by.

Look – I don’t know why –

but there’s a shitty parch of pavement

outside Aush Al Bulbul where pigeons flock

and nest - they’ve definitely been sent

to rile the proprietor – who shocks

public feeders, screams at them to drop

any intention of sowing seed –

and scrubs off the guano daily – they breed.

No one eyed, yellow idol to the North,

points out which of these have given birth

lately, but you can spot the old ones;

they don’t move, sing songs

then shut hooded eyes to fall over apologetically -

I wonder if they ever tumble from the sky?

Still, back to our youthful fancier –

she’s leading him on a merry dance

as if to say – not today –

and he’s torn up they were made that way.