nest occupied

hung on my face

(a doorknob)

of empty bird syndrome

just a-lookin for a cage



theres a bird occupied

sittin at the counter

of an espresso joint

tracing the branches

to come down



theres a wealth

of little migrations

that i call songs

(or windows to run into)

that might hit home

*

and

i dont stop chirping

when i hear them trains a comin

i dont stop singing

when theres thunder in the rain

i dont look for branches

when theres snowfall in the canyon

i just go on

lookin for a cage