Litkicks Message Board Archive

Wild Goose

Posted to Action Poetry





It was a line.
A throwaway line, really.
A segue in a mediocre poem that I read:
“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.”
And I’m thinking, why aren’t poets more sympathetic with people heading home in their Buicks on the freeway?
Shiny cars in I-formations coming home from a visit to Six Flags Amusement Park.
People thinking of the comforts of home.
The big comfy leather couch.
The TV set
The Oreo cookies.
The bottle of gin.

“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.”
Why are we prone to wax poetic about geese?
Someday. Soon, probably. Snippets of DNA will be combined to form a bigheaded goose with a larynx.

“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.”
“Flying in a V-formation isn’t romantic; it’s work!” the bigheaded goose will tell us. “It’s exhausting. It’s like digging ditches … not that we really know what that’s like. And the reason we’re in a V-shape is ‘cause it’s helpful to keep the bugs out of our noses.

“And we don’t think of it as ‘heading home.’ What home? You think we have a log cabin in Saskatchewan?”

“Actually, it is you humans that impress us with your sleek boxy nests and how you put your young ones to work for you, taking out the trash. You can never get a gosling to so much as lift a feather.”

“We admire you human so much! Your roads! Your buildings! They make for such lovely geometrical patterns. It’s all we honk-honk about during our flyovers. Stupid trees in forests are scattered around at random. But you humans are creative artists!

“And just for the record, the air isn’t ever really blue. It’s pretty much clear all of the time, even when it’s not that clean.”