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National Poetry Month – Fordham Poem of the Day


See That Bird (By Joanna Cooper)

Believe me or don’t, I’ve been a hoarder of private glees. Have forgotten

my givens, the muck of my beginnings. Thought on those other

beginnings. How string-haired teenagers stood around my crib

harmonizing Neil Young. I’m not even kidding. There is that

in my species—an algebra of voice and floating particles. Sly jokes.

Feet out the car window. Minor key susurrations.

What if you saw me standing in the kitchen staring at an avocado pit

in wonder and plain looking? How my sprouted bread and vegetables

felt so blessed I wanted to kiss them before I took them into me

and chewed. Well, ok. We have our ecstatic songsters.

We have our quiet wonderers. But see that bird out your window,

how small and impertinent and there for a season, screaming

its little head off out its beak? That’s kind of me.

(Joanna Cooper is a post-doctoral teaching fellow in the Department of English.)


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