The frustrations of angels

The frustrations of angels


You are young
and then you are old
just like that.

In between
birds pick at your bones
and sometimes other winged beings
regard you
shaking their heads
and sucking their feathers.

You feel that
"finger food of the gods" feeling
as they hover over your tiny boat
bobbing below
far far out to sea.

They know how long you have to go.

What are we going to do with this one?
Nearly all the stars
gone from its head
(fell out its eyes it said).

We can't pair-bond a thing like that!
Can't make it squirm on a spit of passion!

So they fill up your head with gravel
and stop your eyes with bottle-corks
and no one will know
if they don't get too close.