Learning Lines
Even songbirds learn to singThey listen to their fathers
We babble our way to syntaxWe listen to our mothers
Oh, said my mother, my first word
Without a father, an isolate songWithout a mother …
When I took him to watch the planesthe orphan boy said ’lane, his third word
The songbird teaches his isolate songHis offspring teach the same song
’ird, said the boy, his fifth word
But after a few generationsthe isolate song begins to revert
Live and learn, said my father
But after some yearsAnd with no offspring …
The woman in the nursing homesaid nothing but five five
I opened my mouth andOpened my mouth and sang
Last One Up
And then again, as if that tuneplayed on for us—you know the one,the last we played. Turned out the moon
was playing too, a big balloonagainst the busy foolish…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, May/June 2024