Metal Bird

There’s a metal bird on the roof
It’s a TV antennae with a gaping beak
Catching the waves (or the bits)
Rear feathers bare, parallel, sunset lit
Aluminum pole for legs
A flamingo for our age.
Never nesting, never flying
Numbing the patients with its medicine
Pumping us full of news
As our blood is cleansed
Our minds are left
Full of plastic
Commercials blast us with their junk
Mindfulness kicks in and I go
Elsewhere

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