Diana Turner

Tonight, magpies are on one with the starlings.

Dusk is noisy, battered by self-righteous

claims to air. Trees support them all.

Blackbirds scatter thoughts, wild chaotic dreams.


It will be dawn before I’m done with all the hate,

collisions between light and dark shading

into one disgusting mess of crazy bird shit sticking

to my ribs, tongue coated with the startling aftermath.


Waking is a tangled glitch of sheets wound round

and through the echoes of birdsong.

Sometimes it makes sense but mostly I am lost

while robins tug my hair to remember.



*art: Diana Turner

One thought on “chaos

  1. Ezekiel Aleman says:

    I still read your writing and continue loving it.
    Best wishes.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s