This Is What You Need to Know About the World, Pretend Son
When I cupped my hand a broken hummingbird fell into it. Its eyes had been pecked out, its beak was missing, and I could see its heart beating through its torn chest. The heart began to fall out, so I put my finger there to hold its heart in. It felt more like a vibration than a heartbeat, like a moth’s wing. It felt good on my finger. Then another broken hummingbird fell, but into the pond. It made a few ripples and then floated there on its side, left leg twitching, beak frozen open, stiff little creature with one wing straight up. A little paper sail boat. The clouds were not shaped like clouds. A tree was blooming with broken hummingbirds instead of leaves. Instead of a sun, a slow explosion. The hummingbird heart on my finger felt bottomless. The day almost smelled like spring.