MORE ELECTIONS
​
​

           Lady Beaverbrook Arena, Fredericton NB 9/20/21

The little birds here wear mustard on their
backs, wear red on their throats, wear green belts around

the whipping twitching muscles of their bird
hearts. I vote on an iceless indoor hockey rink.

I say, I need to change my address. I’m
new here. I spell out street names at a desk where

in a game the net would be. We’re cautious,
we make a mark here like songbirds on their backs

or contemplate the story’s moral too
long and too bird-like, like the game was too much

like a draw or like we made the first blow
too soon, too hard in someone else’s fight. We

vote strategically, we’re the birds against
the winter, we’re more against than for. We wear

mustard, we break into pieces, we are
flying and nothing changes or we’re dropping

out of next month’s frozen sky, pulling our
masks down at the exit and finding how

the vestigial birdbones in our arms are
incompatible with what is coming next.