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BRONX ZOO
2. the world of birds
it was a bright blue backdrop, with no sky to think of, the world of birds was like allowing a child to walk on a glass floor above a beach, and watching them trying to dip their hands down into the waves, i entered this world as a cry broke loose from a rainforest bird, a vocalisation to nothing but painted walls and a fake sky, it was as if that cry had released the same cry in me, the cry kept up perpetually and the same, until i knew that bird to be insane, the carmine bee eater from tropical africa, sits beneath a skylight, in the wild it forages while in flight, colonies may in hundreds and thousands, it rides large animals in order to catch insects, inside the sunless world of birds, the desperate trumpet of montezuma oropendula from mexico, central america, in this sound my despair, the future of us all |
