‘Surprising Birds’ by Dave Clark
I walked past a dead pigeon today.
It was on its back,
Both legs stuck up
And its toes spread out.
As though it died surprising someone.
Maybe it saw itself in a reflection
And did such a good job
That its poor heart overloaded.
That saying came to mind,
‘At least he died doing what he loved.’
So dumb.
I love doing what I love.
When I die, I hope it’s doing something
I hate,
Like a boring conversation
Or mopping,
So I get out of doing it.
I hope the bird hated scaring people.
Dave Clark is a writer-poet with CFS who lives and breathes in Mparntwe (Alice Springs). He works as a counsellor and enjoys reading, photography and giving voice to quieter stories.
His works have been published in Mascara, Imprint, Pure Slush Books, Adelaide Lit, Quillopia, Slippage Lit, Melbourne Culture Corner and Right Now.