Bird Control by David Francis

At the meat processing factory
a mechanical screech
frightens seagulls away.



On the statue's head, a wig of pins
keeps pigeons at bay. Downtown in the park
the starlings deposit enough excrement



in one afternoon to attract the attention
of the mayor. Proposals vary:
perhaps a large net. A cloud of poison.



In the garden a scarecrow looks drunk,
head resting on his chest. Here and there
in the orchard, a shiny piece of foil dangles



like a Christmas ornament. The hole in the birdhouse:
too small for anything larger than a wren.
Where do they go then, those who are unwelcome,



those whose removal is desired?
How far must they travel? As they reach the ends
of the earth they discover a city



where their depredations are unknown:
they flock to the landfill, the sewer outfall,
to the grain spilled along the railroad.



In the city at the ends of the earth,
statues once again exhibit wisdom,
their heads streaked with white.


By David Francis David is a Board member of CoCA, visual artist and poet living in Seattle. David's poem was originally posted on Art Access along with works by Paul Hunter and Mary Lou Sanelli. Click here to find out more.