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Lisa Hannigan
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Little Bird
Walking round Chicago,
I have smuggled you as cargo,
though you are far away unknowing.
By the time we get to Salt Lake
I have packed you in my suitcase,
ironed the creases from my own remembering.
She said Bird, why?
We wound our way to Texas
and I summoned remote hexes
and I sent them across dust and oceans.
In Phoenix, Arizona I had the notion
I might phone you,
but there it lived and died, a notion.
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She said Bird, why? I said Bird, why?
Oh my satellite, oh my passenger.
We came up on Ohio,
I have you chewed on like a biro.
You are a sum I am no closer to deciphering.
We came to Minneapolis,
all fizzy blood and twitchy fists.
I buried you in a day of snowing.
She said Bird, why? I said Bird, why?
Oh my satellite, oh my passenger.
Oh my satellite, oh my passenger.
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