i'm screaming against windows
in a 4 x 4 room by a crowded street,
anticipating a turn of the head
or slam against glass in wonderment.

i'm thrashing above and under
a crowded pier,
onlookers engaged more
by alcohol and bikini bottoms
than the girl's lungs full of seawater.

i'm sinking into a bed, certain
black moths and butterflies outside
are the only insects interested
in this bedsheet quicksand.

i'm throwing the bird who cries,
wings flapped and gripping the ledge,
overboard to dull any will left
in its blue body.

nobody notices the 150 pound girl,
so who would listen to an animal's forced swan-song?