my favorite bird

a feather speckled, spotted almost
curb cut nearly blue against warm brown
my voice in technical distraction
paused in recognition

reaching down optics not having touched 
glancing I see beside nearby glass tower
her slightly curved bill broken, still
sharp markings I make no mistake, though

maybe was there something wrong
with my favorite, with my favorite

6 responses total.

Was this really written entirely as an exquisite corpse?  It seems incredibly
coherent:  the images and phrases are all over the place, but it sounded like
it was written with a particular feeling in mind, and like it hit that feeling
right on the nose.

Of course, that scattered-ness also makes it hard to comment on.  I have no
idea what makes it work, so I don't really have anything to suggest.  But good
work, and welcome to poetry! -- am I right in thinking you're new to the
conference?

YEAH!  I exuberantly like this one.

Welcome.  Perhaps you've hit some deep sense of artistry we cannot 
fully comprehend.  I do tend to agree with Dan, but I'm not sure the 
poem ends neatly for me.  I'm wondering if there could be more 
description before the last two lines.  But then, since I'm having 
trouble interpreting this as well, I can't be certain that's a problem.

        If nearness black city disgorging, heat cod-liver oil antennaee!

You really think so?  <shakes head>.

I like this.  The meaning isn't immediatly clear to me, but I'm not focusing
on that- Every line feels finely honed, almost surgical.  Everything was
removed that wasn't nessecary.  Good work.

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