rage fragment
what an urge, wanting things, to stay alive
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/62bc9c0ba1e179001d0f08cc.jpg)
The birds bother me because I can’t see
them, their small noises. A joke on twitter
is going around that when we hear their
singing, say beautiful, those birds are only
//
trying to fuck. What an urge, wanting things,
to stay alive, to keep being alive, to make
something out of ourselves: the birds smaller
versions of birds and us, well, just
//
a whole version. Fuck those birds and their chirp-
ing will to live. They bother me because I can’t see
them but I can’t tune them out. The longer
I sit here the louder the
//
louder the birds get the loud-
er the birds get sitting sitting still.
And I’m so angry again at nothing.
And it’s not the birds I’m mad at.
//
You know, you know, you know.
I want to make something out of ourself.
I want to make something out of nothing,
piece ourself together broken egg
//
shell. Where’s the snake? Eat
the yolk. If we find those birds their nest
you’ll eat the yolk. Crack each egg
smaller versions of birds smaller versions
//
of birds. What an urge, destruction.
Where does any urge come from?
Living, creating, being alone, sitting,
hillsides, the water. Where do the birds
//
come from? Breaking breaking shells eat-
ing birds piec ing together wondering
where did the bird go where did the bird
go and when did they stop making their sounds?
//
It is good to not see them, then. I’ll just
keep sitting and being bothered. Listening.
Being present. Oh, in the tree there, the sun hit
them. A blue one looks me in the eye to ask
//
Isn’t it a beautiful day? and Wanna fuck, wan-
na fuck, wanna fuck? I stare at the point of his beak
and answer, No, blue bird. No, I don’t but thank you
for seeing me. And yes, what a beautiful day.
This poem was included in my book "I want you to feel ugly, too," which can be read on issuu.
Read part 1 of this poem
Read part 3 of this poem
About the Creator
Joe Nasta
hungry
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