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Page Slam > > Let's get slammin' > > Poem
Poem Survival of the Fittest The bird continues to lose breeding grounds
in its range when suburbs encroach into farmland and tract houses replace rural areas - Doug Gross, senior environmental biologist There are no dead birds.
I thought there would be. Trees disappeared to make way for us. Rude birds did not. They live in alleys, gather in gangs, swarm the fronts of cars, black out our vision for moments at a time, bird games to waste time, away from their old life in the country. They build nests in our chimneys, in young trees one per yard, in the 'K' and the 'a' of K-Mart. * * * * *
Acknowledgements This poem was originally published in Big Hammer, Number 1
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