Monday, November 2, 2009

little bird--a poem (m)

In junior year of high school, a new girl showed up.  Her name was Maureen.  Maureen was unlike anyone I had ever seen before....she looked so "wholesome."  We didn't do wholesome at my school. The girls looked like updated versions of Rizzo's friends from Grease. Maureen had long straight hair almost to her waist and it was always impeccably groomed and shiny. Her lipstick was a simple tube of Chapstick. I found out when I stayed at her house for a sleepover that Maureen used a shampoo called Pantene.  I can still smell the stuff in the bottle.  Maureen also wore ballet flats with her school uniform.  She was a high honors student and an accomplished pianist (she got a scholarship to Brown).

Imagine my surprise when my new squeaky clean friend shared a poem with me one day.  I think I remember it.

Little Bird

A little bird with a yellow bill
Was perched upon my windowsill
I lured him there with crusts of bread
And then I smashed his f....... head!

I thought of Maureen today for the first time in a long time.  Why?  I got a bill from the carpenter to repair the damage from the woodpecker:  $3,000.

I almost hurled my breakfast.

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