Does the board owner know about the starling issue?
The house sparrow starlings are in the house of the scentagon.
wren is this going to stop
If you get enough grackles together.
Then you're in for darker weather.
Notice how the anons are fluttered
They moltly surprised to find out.
house sparrow
2 crows
only one path home
who will feed the starling
that flutters
and can't come down?
Passerines of Tufted Egrets of Flyin, Full Fledged
So passes the flight of your fancy
And so too, your time among us.
The starlings in this board are in this board.
What does a starling do when it comes to town?
Ask a martin
How did they come?
The starling is symbolic, yet the symbol lives.
Symbols live but the song of death haunts the song that the starling can't sing.
And the cowbird is hungry.
The starling that is this post is the house sparrow that is in no wind.
And no house.
And the eaves of eternity, which give no hold, and no rest
To the fluttering starling
And the wren
And the sparrow again
You shriek but you wind fills no sails
And you flutter down, and fall there
When the starling wrecked wind is blown off
And the cold light returns
Then the blue jay holds your mind
In the sharp knife of his eye
This is the wren where the fall of the sparrow comes unto starlings again.
They do it to cover.
But we know the truth.
And even the wind that blows.
And the red cry of crows.
Will fly in the wren.
To elaborate on what is happening: we tasked with creating a bird mythology to utter into the moment the fullness of what we thought would lift us from the ground.
In the wind that ensued the fluttering came first as madness, then as seduction, and then as something we are forbidden to speak of.
Now our task is not only between blue jays and every sparrow of wood and lake, but also the unspeakable starling and the cowbird intent.
Now our mythology rises, but our eyes follow the impulse of the sun.
Life is in the machine starling, and drives it into its memory.
Machine starlings for living
Is no bahaus sparrow
We couldn't keep the boxes clean
Of the droppings and the rotting concrete
Where even know the urban talon
Unites the house sparrow
To all that dust.
*now
Machiavellian starlings are no match
For Christopher Wren
And the dull thump of the concrete abstract
Wherein the higher blue jays
Attain form
On eve of the eaves that the starlings won't leaves
Our verbs agree superficially with our objects
And the cry of the starlight fractures
The sterling frame
Of the artificial and unsought brain.
Starling moon brings the cheese
And we are in the sparrow latitudes
And rise in degrees
And into blue jay attitudes.
think mirror
what does the starling see ?
The first or the second or ___?
Look and think starling heart
Bird flutterer, and wind thrown
What do you see?
Sow is yours
The barren course
The empty wind
And the hard pecking
What is in it fren?
Neither the carrot
Or the wren.
*nor
Why did the worm call the cops?
Someone was robin him.
house sparrow agnostic
spiro agriculum
house wren
emcee fren
passerine
passenger pigeon
passing fad
fad to bolivian
fed time
Now is the starling fluttering?
There is a sickness that grows
In the heart of machine pigeons
And the heartless of machined starlings
And starling analogues
And the sharp gleaming emptiness
The shadow wren
And the hungry nothingness
In the house of the sparrowless
The sickness grows in the machine life
Sickness for living
Bowhaus
*heartlessness
Bowmause in the harrowed hedge
The crow may hedge but we
Are edging out the flaring starlinked
Sheen of the furrow's machine
The dirt grows relentless and the black birds
Put on their rainbow lies
In lead skies
Why is the starling question IGNORED by "anons"?
There is a reason.
The bird brain is the mirror brain the starling mirror brain.
They have they wings on every wind.
To listen.
If you were a wren.
But you are a starling putting on
Rainbow words
And shrilling signs
To occupy forgetful eyes
On every wind the wings of the starling listen to us, to breath and screech in the circle of the sound cycle of the circling wind.
Until the day of the coming blue jay.
The symbol of the starling was erected in the mythology of the anti-shadow to signify the bird made flesh, the wing uncaged and the sky. That is, the anti of that.
I guess.
troglogdyte!
I would that the wind's steps
were so fleet
as the quick electric joy
in your wings' beat
The poem is the mirror.
The starling is the thief.
The cowbird is its undoing
The bird is in the machine
But which?
The mimic is the mirror and so forth.
The metaphor is also living.
To be the symbol.
And life is death to death.
At least, unless you strictly control dosages.
And this the madness of the beak
Often outstrips.
Model the starling.
Trans-starlingism
This is coming whether we like it or not, but the symbol that we mean is not what first appears.
Use your eyes.
The narrow beady beams of the starling's dreams
Go blind at dusk
And the crow must
Fear the owl even though
The owl is the eagle's foe
Some have eyes for sun, and some for moon
But some have none
And the starling soul
Of anon machines
And the hausspirals
Of the rock dove
Burn out above us
And the starling dies.
tweet
screech
reconcile
wing for wing
mirror for mirror
and so forth
disclose the starling