Part I:
When hibiscus bloom, graceful stamens tickling the sky,
hummingbirds swarm in hoards to sunnier climes.
Where they drink sugar water from feeders in ladies' backyards.
they will not drink artificial sweetener,
to them, saccharine has the bitter taste of poison.
Hummingbirds originated in South America,
where the Aztec's thought them to be gods on Earth.
For certain ceremonies Aztec slaves were forced to sew
thousands of tiny hummingbird feathers to priest's long capes.
Hummingbirds were an instant sensation in European society.
Fashionable ladies would to embellish their hats, homes, and meals,
with tiny jeweled bodies, wings outstretched as if to take flight.
Today in certain parts of Mexico women wear remarkable necklaces,
which showcase lifeless hummingbirds encased in resin.
These talismans symbolize the search for true love.
The Hummingbird-man doesn't believe in love.
He stares down his hyper-extended nose
at the grey mosaic of the sidewalk
and ponders the bleak prospect
of humanity.
Part II:
The Hummingbird-man's first word was 'death'.
He can still remember the fish that ruined his life.
She had big dark, infinite eyes, but he could never hear her voice.
She was all ribbony tail and bubbles, all cloying looks and temptation.
All he wanted was to hold her and kiss her pursed lips,
but she struggled, She fought his embrace. He loved her,
and she chose to die rather than succumb.
She fell from his arms onto the floor and her trashing finally ceased.
Then the toddler who would become the Hummingbird-man, fled.
He ran to his mother's lilac caress, bewildered and seeking comfort.
Her soft hands wiped away his tears. He smelled coffee and liquor on her lips
as she kissed his forehead and asked what was wrong, why he was crying.
He gripped her familiar hand in both of his tiny fists and led her
back to the still body, the first victim, his heart filled with regret.
The now-dead fish, his first and last pet, stared at him without once blinking,
eyes suffused with accusation, kissable mouth agape, useless gills flared,
organs and segments of veins visible through translucent skin.
Part III:
The hummingbird-man was not always the menace he is today.
He was once innocent and in love with a girl who had eyes like twilight.
They were both young, still children really, but they love they shared was feverish.
To him she was perfect, except for the gap in her teeth and her irrational fear of ants.
An artist in every way: every word she spoke was a song, her every movement
a dance, stargazing with her was like listening to the sky read poetry.
Her smile lit up the world. She played the xylophone because she said it mimicked
the sounds of children laughing – the happiest sound on earth.
The only time he ever saw her cry was when she learned children laugh 300 times a day
but adults are lucky to laugh 300 times a year. She told him she never wanted to grow up
and he quietly fed her crisp frozen grapes. They never fought – she hated arguing
she said every fight was like a miniature war between two people.
That's probably why she never said goodbye … one day she was just gone.
Her friends said she left with a band that passed through town.
The lead singer saw her, and wanted her like he'd never wanted anyone before,
so he wooed her and convinced her to go away with him. She never looked back.
It was selfish of her but she was just a child, with a child's fickle whims.
Without her, he felt dead inside, numb as if she'd blown out the fire inside him.
What he does now isn't her fault, she was merely the final straw for him.
When he closes his eyes now he can see the dreams and hopes of others,
and he finds them wanting. Pathetic insipid creatures, he thinks, as he kills.
He is trying to cleanse the earth of selfish people,
in his twisted mind this goal is somehow noble.