Salvatore Difalco

When I saw the birdcage, I was reminded
of a chest cavity; its red parrot bobbing
like a beating heart. I could not tell you where
I was at that time, I’ve carpet-bombed my memory.

When the leaf-blowers engage down below,
I entertain the concept of driving south and
purchasing a bazooka for precisely such moments.
What happened to the world I used to know?

Change comes, whether slowly or like
a punch in the face from someone just standing
before you with an indifferent demeanour.
People resort to violence for many reasons.

The season is changing from winter
to summer. We’ve had to let spring go
due to budget cuts. Autumn is next, but
residents of the Northeast have filed suit.

Next up, we’ll be talking to a man who
enjoys watching whales in Arcadia National Park.
He claims he likes to swim the waters there
and nudge the big boys surfacing for air.

We live and die. Between those two realities,
fixed like stars in the sky, we do stuff to keep
from going mad. And yes, now and then stars
explode, but that was long ago, we’re told.

Salvatore Difalco

lives in Toronto, Canada.