Thursday, February 23, 2012

that bird

That bird that rubs its beak on the mountain (sometimes it's Fuji, sometimes Everest) only once a year, like a birthday, that inhabits community college sad professors...that explains eternity sheepishly and why the biology teacher sleeps with the comparative religions one filled with mythology while the mathematics lady drools in Russian loneliness of her long teeth, long fifty-two year old body, stories of singing Communist songs cheerfully as a child who was probably never a child or possibly denounced her parents or others and the dictator's bright red bows in her hair...why does she not realize that is unattractive...and now she's seventy-three tonight, no longer worries at least, I thought of her standing outside the door to her class, how she always waited for adult students, unnecessarily, being Russian, is that it? i thought about that bird that visits the mountain in explanations...gently tonight...

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