“Switch,” said a voice
and, within a single moment,
his brain exploded into ten
“What grave fortune for
the life of a bird so young,”
It was so, so sad.
His mother took his broken
body to a hospital, but the
doctors went blind and the
nurses who attended him
buckled under the gravity
of his vacant radiance.
She carried him across the world,
weeping every day for her son and
the wretched hand fate had dealt her.
Years passed. Rivers parted. Mountains were moved.
But time had forgotten him –
age was lost in his polychromatic eyes.
On her deathbed, she commissioned
an artist for a gravestone with his last words.
A carcass was retrieved from the streets.
They framed him on the whitest
walls on earth with his pale, harrowed
face staring to the east, and
people gathered from far