Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2015  v14n1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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back C.L. O’DELL

Dear Animal

Dear animal, I dream I have your lack
of being able to fail. It is all too real,
the panic and no hope, the invention of love
and then breaking it because it kills me.
I am left with only moving
toward places that remain secret and loud
like a second heart on a leash
I am walking. There is

an image of an oak in my head
and me walking through it. It means flying.
A rifle goes off in the next field over
spilling sparrows into the sky like marbles.
I find grass, and it’s as if an honest man
is telling me a story. Here, snow
means two things: blood
and hunger.

Measure this brick of faith in my mouth
girdled by tongue-muscle and hum.
All of these teeth must mean something
by now.  end  

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