Though it is not clear why

I clambered on the back of the bird

- wings like laborious daydreams,

feathers like concealed prophecies -

and we floated over the earth like

a headstrong cloud. When I looked

down at the world I discovered how

mean, loving, corrupt and funny

we deal with another. Unashamed.

I imagined. I was a god. Just at that

moment, I slipped from the neck of

the bird, landed with a unbelievable

thud in a faithful canopy bed. And

now I lie next to you, knowing how

mean, loving, corrupt and funny we

are. Is it therefore we are so happy.

Like a bird on the head of a statue?