Channel-billed Cuckoo / Summers of Trump

By | 1 May 2019

you appear on the air’s first hot blast
an anomaly among regular cut-outs of blue
with your call of car gears not meshing
your grating sense of entitlement, your list
of what you have the right to destroy.
brood parasite, you cuckold the future, fly
like a heat-seeking missile across the sun
targeting birds with the fiercest
belief in their rights. the gullible
noisy miners flock to you, convinced
by your rhetoric. their attention diverted
your mate lays a time-bomb.
your chicks inflict a regime where bullies
prosper. when i find a small unfledged body
tossed from its defenceless nest i hear
a metal heart dragging on gravel.
your flight through everyday geometries
of rooftops, tv aerials, norfolk island pines
and the curved horizon of the sea, skews
our kilter. your voice cants this world.

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