A canary flew
through the broken window
and perched on the edge of my desk.
It tilted its head, yellow feathers
catching the dim glow of the splintered dawn.
Black beak madness.
“Who are you?” it asked,
voice sharp as a fillet knife.
I shrugged.
“I’m a base poet,” I said.
“Dropped on my head by life a few times.
Eyes like a kicked dog.
A beard that refuses to grow straight.
Hands that shake when the world asks too much.”
It chirped, a Bach concerto fractured,
and whispered,
“Ah yes.
We are all just dead birds
at the bottom of a cage.
Tiny lice crawling through our eyes.
No song.
No light.”
I blinked.
The desk smelled of spilled coffee,
old beer, and blood-stained pages.
Outside, a cat howled like a lost highway.
I wondered if the canary knew my thoughts
better than I did.
“You’re a strange little fellow,” I said.
And we sat, like that,
the clock ticking toward 6:00 a.m.,
waiting for the world to stretch and moan to life again.
I slid into my wingtips.
The city smelled of wet asphalt and busted dreams.
I walked out, headed west on Ingersoll,
thinking of caged birds, dead poets,
and the strange, stubborn pulse
of madness in the magic time.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 14th, 2026 07:08
- Comment from author about the poem: My books are available on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?ref=sr_
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments2
It is these simple encounters that we splice in semi coherent puzzles in our mind and take meaning that we wonder if nature intended. Well done Thomas
Thomas, you got me with this one. The canary is memorable from the start, but what stayed with me most was the atmosphere...the spilled coffee, the ticking clock, the city waking beneath a sky still half asleep. By the end, it feels less like a poem and more like a strange memory you've carried home from dawn. Excellent write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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