View Archives by:


from The way birds become homonyms: an aviary

Joseph Bradshaw

with my feathers entangled in your navel
and then a place where there are holes
a bird's glazed eye's as white as its flight.
I see you see that you can only see
a bird from the outside
but have you ever glimpsed beneath
the cloudy exterior? Once plumage is stripped
it reveals almost nothing about skin
but everything about its itch.

Joseph Bradshaw

Read Bio

Author Discusses Poems