Five hundred feet from Terrapin Point the Birdman stands with his bicycle. His face as flat as the quarters he begs for, glares at foreign tourists. Two boisterous parrots, Larry and Mabel. They smell like tourists and change, and are footcuffed to three brass chains connected to his backpack. A Muslim family approaches. They want a picture. Birdman places the birds on the hands of the smallest boy, and his mother takes a picture. Mabel squirms. Larry squawks. Click. A reward for their posturing, Birdman places birdseed on his tongue, and the parrots peck away, ignoring his birdbreathe for an evening snack. The tourists clap and laugh at Birdman and toss him their spare change. Birdman stands. Waits. For another family to pose with his birds.
Mabel licks her wings
and Larry says, "Picture pic."
Birdman stands alone.
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:19 PM UTC
Five hundred feet from Terrapin Point the Birdman stands with his bicycle. His face as flat as the quarters he begs for, glares at foreign tourists. Two boisterous parrots, Larry and Mabel. They smell like tourists and change, and are footcuffed to three brass chains connected to his backpack. A Muslim family approaches. They want a picture. Birdman places the birds on the hands of the smallest boy, and his mother takes a picture. Mabel squirms. Larry squawks. Click. A reward for their posturing, Birdman places birdseed on his tongue, and the parrots peck away, ignoring his birdbreathe for an evening snack. The tourists clap and laugh at Birdman and toss him their spare change. Birdman stands. Waits. For another family to pose with his birds.
Mabel licks her wings
and Larry says, "Picture pic."
Birdman stands alone.
2009