The Finch at the Feeder

Today as a Stick in Bicycle Spokes

I want to throw an icy snowball at a stranger and hit them right in the bridge of their nose. Chew rare meat with my mouth open. Grow thorns and be held. I want isolation in the post-apocalyptic sense. I want to pull a tooth. Today is wrought-iron twisted by the elements into something obscene. Today is a lie you heard years ago and still believe. Today is a cannibal best friend. Gnash, weep, repeat. I am the unapologetic patron saint of the pitiful, the at-the-bar-aloners, the gluggers of good scotch. I am a vandalized zoo. Animals free from their cages, dumbfounded by each others' habitats, lashing out in bewilderment. There is protocol for anger, even rage. Same for jealousy and hate. But when a creature is off-kilter, unsure, thrown out of balance--everything is possible. From the dark grab-bag of instinct and action, there is no anticipating what the hand might come out with.