Poems by Jakob Zaaiman on Medium
Vernon a Murder Car
Contemporary poetry
Poems about birds and
nature and sweet sunsets
and the loveliness of love
are always so feeble and
irritating and silly and,
when the sun itself has
sunset — as it invariably
does — about absolutely
nothing worth giving a
second thought to
at all.
So the following poem, then,
is not going to be about birds,
mice, geese, pigeons, etc. It’s
going to be about something
quite other.
Now the undeniable truth
is that if a bird plops on you,
then you are a shit person. More
specifically, you have been cosmically
identified as a ‘shithead’. A pigeon once
shat a squirt of predictably white shit
on my dad’s black homburg hat — and
while he was wearing the bloody thing! —
which meant that the universe was telling
the rest of us — his family and friends
and colleagues — that my dad was
in all honesty not much more than a
splat of shit on a hat. (As if we
didn’t know that much already.)
But in a quaint way…
