POEM A DAY – April 14

the red thing

the blue jays are screaming 
as if they are the voice of the 
red thing caged inside my ribs
the red thing battling through 
another rejection the red thing
unstoppably impossibly doing
the job of keeping me alive
without my permission, really
I didn’t choose this red thing
the way it ambitions the way
it pursues the way it matters
beyond its prison the way it
expands its jurisdiction into
every sentence every story
the red thing with a screaming
blue jay voice – blue and red
o the purple bruising lifts to the 
skin of this mild april morning
and I want to lay down in the
sadness in the clearly I don’t
know what I’m doing in the 
what’s wrong with me that
my red thing never | | | | |

no. the blue jays are gone
only the chimes and the 
robins and the city breathing
the woodpecker and the 
transport truck breaks on
the expressway only my
red thing caged inside 
my ribs – choosing me
for its bountiful benedictions
my red thing reds for red
no contest no competition
my red thing victorious