UNFINISHED
CONVERSATIONS WITH A CATBIRD
The catbird shot by again like a musket ball across
my
neighbor’s yard. (Ed was likely out on family stroll.)
I offered the bird a Rogue, my favorite beer. But he
declined.
Not interested in that sort of thing. So, I proposed,
“A
glass of Chardonnay for this July twilight?”
“Oh, no. I’m not intrigued by what you consider leisure.
I
prefer elderberries & mulberries, especially ones with a touch
of
ferment that makes the sky muy verde.”
Hmm, bilingual.
He continued: “I had a chat with a
blackbird yesterday.
Asked
him about Ed’s blue spruce, so thick & concentrated,
almost
like a hive, ‘cause I never see that blackbird in it. He
never
hides in that tree, you know. ‘Waste of time,’ was all
he
told me.”
“So, he simply avoids that spruce,” I
politely
surmised.
“Look, I came back to give you a
little hell for sitting
beneath
my tree again!”
Now, I must say that this unprovoked
attack gives
me
peculiar charge, since I legally own this magnificent maple
tree
with its muscular arms supporting a luxurious umbrella
canopy
above my lounge chair with white & thick blue-striped
nylon
cushions designed to repel the rain; although, I don’t
expect
this feisty catbird to honor the human legal system.
Still,
I speak openly with him. No use making things difficult
(for
me, that is).
“All right, Cat, you’ve been coming
‘round for days.
While,
indeed, I enjoy your company, frankly, I’ve spread
the
news of our visits, with a fair amount of glee, I might
add.
But we must come to an understanding. We’ll have
to
share this tree. There’s no other way around it! Further-
more,
I’ll continue to pipe into our happy valley Roy
Orbison,
the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Bela Bartok,
&
the Beatles whenever the mood strikes me. So, I hope
there
won’t be any complaints coming from you. I’ve
had
an earful of your temper, &, see, it didn’t do any
good.
I’m still here. Plus, the robins & cardinals are huge
fans.”
With a tail flick, the catbird responds: “Okay,
I’ll
see what I can do.”
-END- (Part I)
Upon returning from Ed’s backyard
jungle of oaks,
Japanese
maples, & black walnuts, the catbird inquires, “So,
what
do you think of your friend, Paul?”
“Well, he vacillates a little. But
that’s no big deal,” I
offer.
“A bit like Clinton?”
“Enough of that!”
“See you in a couple of blocks. I want
to disturb that
jerk
on Chatsworth Avenue. Yeah, I also gave Ed a good scolding
this
morning. Even brought Ida along for support. We gave it to
‘em
pretty good.”
“Is that all you do,” I admonished?
“What?”
“Fly around giving people grief?”
“I’ve got news for you! While you’re
working all day,
managing
& selling stuff nobody wants or needs, feeding your
ulcer
with a new batch of unrealized hopes & dreams, I work
pretty
damn hard. I’m busy all day, sun up to sundown, & I’ve
never
met a single damn client for lunch!”
“All right, all right. I left you some
blueberries yesterday.”
-END- (Part II)
“I like the split-rail fence a lot.
That wide top rail offers
me
great footing.”
“I’ve noticed. You spend a lot of time
on our fence.
Particularly
after eating. Don’t you think you could shift your
butt
a little?”
“You know, I never think about shitting. I’m too busy
wondering
what to do next. As you’re no doubt aware, I live my
my
life moment to moment. Zen-like, you might say. Every single
second
I’m fully conscious. That way I can cram a hundred of
your
years into two of mine. You might say that I make my sun run!
Remember
that one?”
“You’re a real splinter, you know that.
When did you
become
the metaphysical Einstein of Northway Road?”
“Life is time, & time passes like
an annoying swarm
of
gnats.”
-END- (Part III)
"Tons of lightning bugs out tonight.
Notice how
they
skim along barely a foot above the clover. Your big
bushy
dog is patrolling the side fence again, barking at
walkers
in their insufferable white shorts. What’s with that,
anyway?
What possesses humans to choose the ridiculous
clothes
they wear?”
“I don’t know. Variety. Boredom. Indecision.
Any
number
of factors, I suppose. I hear your family crying up
a
storm. No sunlight left. The streetlights just came on.
They’re
calling you back to the nest.”
“I’ll go see what’s happening. But say
something
about
those shorts, will ya?”
“Sure. I’ll look into it.”
-END- (Part IV)
(ISBN #978-0-9647754-4-2
CypressBooks
1245 Lago Court
Rio Rico, AZ 85648
Violin Smoke (Hegedűfüst) by Alan Britt
(Trans. into Hungarian by Paul Sohar,
Iradalmi Jelen Könyvek publishers,
(ISBN #978-973-7658-51-7), paperback,
86 pages, www.irodalmijelen.hu, (Online
Bookstore: (http://shop.irodalmijelen.hu/
Zoltán Böszörményi, Publisher, September 2015
[1081 Budapest, Kossuth út 59. 3/5, 310085
Arad, M. Eminescu 55-57] (Telephone:
+40 257-280-751 & Fax: +40 257-280-596)
Alan Britt has appeared at Bradlaugh's Finger before. The two poems by Alan that we published were highly praised for their technique and evocation of scene. We see more of the same here.
Good story, Alan. Catbird is quite the character.
ReplyDelete