I dreamed I kissed the beak of a bird this morning
that flew in through my open car window somewhere
stopped at a traffic light. It was the beginning
of a love poem, I thought, one I’ve never written,
and the bird fluttured in the corner for a bit
after realizing what had happened, too deep
in its afternoon glory of flight, descension of wings,
pigeon-purple neck, to notice it coming.
It too must have believed in the possibility
of the moment to dream it true.
And now, after that instant, I realize
the difference in its alarm, the beady little eyes
not guided by freedom anymore, a bird
alone in the manipulation of air, but startled,
feathers disheveled, fluttering, the imaginary
dust from the foreign wings barely settling
on the dashboard, the subtle, desperate noise
of incompatibility almost enough to keep me awake.
Poem reprinted with permission from Alan Semerdjian. Poem also appeared on The Offending Adam.
Writer/musician Alan Semerdjian’s poems and essays have appeared in several print and online publications and anthologies including Chain, The Lyric Review, Adbusters, Arson, Ararat, and Diagram. He released a chapbook of poems called An Improvised Device (Lock n Load Press) in 2005 and his first full-length book In the Architecture of Bone (GenPop Books) in 2009. His songs have appeared in television and film and charted on CMJ. Alan has performed and read all over North America. He currently teaches English at Herricks High School in New Hyde Park, NY, writes a monthly column and features for the LI Pulse, and resides in New York City’s East Village. You can visit him digitally at alanarts.com, alansemerdjian.com, or Google away.