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Poetry
Up in a Plume of Smoke
By briarcroft
30 July 2008
This is a poem written during an exercise in a class on simile and metaphor

It somehow evolved to something more.

"There are too many,
Our communities are overrun.
They must be annihilated-
Erased from the earth."

Imported to Central Park on a whim
To bring Shakespeare's references to life
Chosen 30 pairs of starlings became millions
Creative, adaptive, aggressive survivors.

Iridescent black plumage
Concentrated in flocks of thousands as if
Undulating in smoke plumes against a dusky sky
Like liquid amoeba, elongating and bunching en masse.

"They are a pestilence, unwelcome and unwanted;
They must be identified, rounded up,
Trapped and eliminated
To remove their influence from society."

Fruit gathered innocently
From nurturing orchards
Used to line the snares, to entice flocks
To eat together, never to fly again.

The government traps cleverly disguised as feeders
Close over the birds, plunging them into darkness
Then gassed, they totter and fall
Atop each other, piled without pity, then burned.

"We must eliminate fifty percent of the population annually
To control their proliferation and the damage they inflict
Their kind is not wanted, not needed
There are too many."

The mass extermination of the reviled and hated
Continues: enticed, led, fed, trapped and
Gassed; finally escaping to the sky
In an undulating black plume of smoke

Yet again.

Reviews

Written by Josie (2849 comments posted) 30th July 2008
OhEmily - what a sad, sad poem. Of all birds, I think I love the starling most of all. They have such character. They are such good mimics. I remember (back in the olden days of the 1980s I think) when trimphones came into existence. I saw a starling mimicking the trimphone when my neighbour was in the garden. The neighbour dropped his tools and went into the house to find the phone had stopped. Out into the garden and the same thing happened - until at last he saw the starling laughing at him. It was hilarious. To see them flying in flocks against the evening sky is a sight beyond words. None of God's lovely birds are vermin, but some human beings definitely are. hm hm. None of us, of course!

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