Unleashed, I Go Hunting: Upon the Occasion Of Collaring a Bird That Forgot To Fly Away [a poem]

Unleashed, I Go Hunting: Upon the Occasion Of Collaring a Bird That Forgot To Fly Away

Dear bird, I love you. This is my teeth around your neck.
Dear bird, we could stick to the script you know.
You keep your early worms and I my biscuits?
Do you really prefer to die?

Dear dog, you say. This is my neck in your mouth.
This is better than a biscuit, and it's why you have teeth.

Incisive as ever, you are dear bird, if slightly cuckoo.
Would I really prefer to bark at the mailman, you ask?

Well, here we are then.

My canines, eponymous and plotting, open you up.
Your guts spill cocoons, milky strands unraveling.

Released from intestinal syntax,
you juggle butterflies in my dreams.
A flowing knit of monarchs.
Not a single broken wing.