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BROTHER, THIS IS FOR YOU
Like you can’t roll your rrrs,
like you hate you say wif not with,
I wonder if some birds,
the one at this pittosporum for instance,
has a compromised hundred voices
can’t eek at the end of his shuddered pirrup,
can’t round his guttural purr
in the way his clan are able,
their clean unit notes pitch-perfect
laser-tight articulate sweet clucks, bell knocks
aired from the pines, the feijoas.
Brother, did you know you sang last night?
We shared my guitar and you sang.
You sang and I liked it.