THE BIRD AVIARY
inside the bird box were grey wobbling
heads shaking off sawdust/ & blind
bulbous eyes with dark skin cupping the
orbs like gladwrap/ & regurgitated seed
& quarrion fledglings breaking out of
thin-skinned eggs/ into an aviary never
big enough to contain their enormous
appetite for flight/ ter-tar-ter ter-
tar-ter a button quail raises her soft
neck above the grass strands & calls
out to the suburb of no quails/ with a
rough fluff of the breast feathers & a
lifting of wings into flightlessness/
ter-tar-ter she calls from her home in
the bird seed/ as the clock hands move
to an hour past childhood/ i am caught
by the cardigan on the aviary threshold
with the tiny red padlock/ the day
before yesterday i saw five adult
quarrions hanging on the wire/ as a
wild flock passed beneath the sun &
called out to them/ & the caged birds
shrieked back with clouds beneath their
wings/ becoming wild with wind that
shook the grey wire mesh/ their panic
entangled in it/
at fifteen i ran away
from school & took off to the bush/
catching the overnight train to dubbo/
& playing poker on the top of luggage
& drinking vodka/ with friends of my
father & other cabin occupants/ at
3 a.m. i pushed up the window & the
snowy air of orange threw light frost
on all of us/ i follow the wild green
budgerygahs & water activated finches
to their tiny nests & deaths/ along
frozen air highways across clear winter
skies/
this i will do tomorrow when i
catch the train to dubbo/ until then
i will watch kingdoms of birds/ with
their mad collections of cotton balls
& string/ & single twigs snatched up in
mid air by instincts gone haywire/ i
fell asleep on the aviary floor the day
before the overnight train to dubbo/
i dreamt of quail chicks hatching in
seed grass/ the rush of fluff beneath
the over extended wings of the mother/
& outside the cage my dog's saliva
crashing to earth 2 inches from the wire | 
