top of page




Is the skin underneath

these lovebirds.

Yet, they boast

Pink, red, brown, blue

Colors of the birds

That may just paint

Me a brand new hue.

Yeah, you’re one of them.

You’re the victim of lying tension

Never honest, seeds

To plant the stem of my brain’s attention.

Oh Lovebird,

You’re coughing up feathers

Of my own design

Still, so still

You sit in the windowsill

Perched, like these words

That just so happen to flow

Off the tongue of my own.

Oh, really? Careful what you say.

That elegant display of affection, she

May fly due south

And forever spilled are your intentions.

So Winter came,

And you said you were cold. In my defense, I was told

The light shines down, but the tree

Will provide shade, no matter the season.

Yet, you are mad. What is the reason?

Winter is here.

I never shy away nor do I show fear.

The light shines down, but the tree

Will explain all of the changing seasons.

Yet, you must leave. What is the reason?

Lovesick, psychotic, my bird, you are.

You made me cry that fateful night

Longing for lust, lusting for life

Lusting for one ride down the tunnel

Into topsy-turvy turmoil.

Lovesick, psychotic, absurd, you are.

I lost you. you took off in spite

For a major flight, one of strife

The flight to ride down the funnel

Into the spill of Louisiana oil.

You’re stuck in slick slime

Forever yours, not once mine.

Fly down the funnel again

And find more of the same thing

In due time.

You’re stuck in grease and grime

Flying no more, through Earth’s wine

You struggle, struggle again.

Wash off in the fountain and sing

“Indeed a fool, am I.”


Artwork: Kristian Zenz

40 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page