Three Poems
Erin Davison

bird holocaust

Red-bellied woodpecker wedged
under robin redbreast under blue jay
under black-capped chickadee

Snatched by the five-toed
cat one by one mid-flight

You and you and you and you

March forward ignore the itch on your back keep your hands to yourself and your business outside picked lines and fences erected under your nose dripping gasoline, milk, blood from planes diluted in cans of beer divides you from you and you from you bound in plastic rings for ease of distribution

Banned delicacies

Wrap me in that leaf
before you leave
the big one on your left
just to the right of the
smudge on my cheek

Folds of green cut
bitter bile behind
my tongue left last night
by flies making cheese
in my mouth