There are birds arising in these flying little dinosaurs
There are a hundred birds in each of them
They never quite land
when they steal
our last piece of chicken
though we lay out premium seed
every night
& every morning
on the rooftop of my in-laws
where my husband & I sleep in a little room
We watch this happen
It’s like beasts awakening in cave paintings
It’s like coming back to life
extinct
without belief
in anything
but these flying little dinosaurs
who seem to know it all
who don’t listen to god
or natural law
Without fear they remain
forever
not dying
on a cross
or overlooking a promise
land they enter
wherever chewing through wood
& rag & screen
& when the clouds lay low in the afternoon
from the haze come dragons too
who descend to undo
clothespins & nails loose
At least five little dragons in each
whose true fire is their speech
taken from everyone
& everything
Muffled laugh track & hawk shrill
quarreling lovers
& siren
church bells
In august drench until the sky dims
the whole of hong kong screams out of them
It taunts & torments & yet
we never hear them coming
& they are never of one place
It never left this earth what they are
these shitty little dinosaurs
who won’t leave a single grape
to roll lonely on my plate
because once they were cockatoos in crates
crossing the south china sea this
they have not forgotten
Every night they escape
To not not arise from our skylines
while I hide my most precious things
as if these things will always be with me
as if the day will come they do not
return to the rooftop
where I’m not holding my breath
face pressed
against torn-up mesh
What they are this earth never left
I see the sunrise & sunset within seconds
There are
Hundreds & hundreds of birds arising in every one of them