The Budgie Poet

A few weeks ago a young, hungry budgie flew into our house, attracted (I think) by the sounds of our birds.

The budgie's too young to sex so we haven't bought it a partner yet. But he or she is very happy---hopping around, eating well, chirping quite nicely, etc, etc.

Mostly, though, our new bird's infatuated with the mirror we placed in its cage. (Almost all budgies fall in love with their reflections.)

For hours, literally, our little budgie sits by the mirror, chirping to its reflection, cuddling up against it, and sometimes even trying to feed it.

The other day, eating breakfast and studying our new bird, Max Jacob's famous prose poem about Apollinaire came to mind. The one in which he imagines Apollinaire with a bird's head. Or a bird with Apollinaire's head.

I thought also of an Ursula K. LeGuin story (?) where the narrator describes Emperor Penguins sitting in the brutal cold, wind and snow. Imagine the poetry, these penguin-poets would write, the narrator wonders. Indeed.

And what incredible poetry the budgie-poets would write! The budgie-poets tirelessly in love with themselves. Preening in front of the mirror for hours. Chirping and chirping. Happily chirping all day long.