Notes on Patriotic Birdcalls

What we threw in the river
A scheme against the future, all the skinny Russian children who look a bit like I do
They say your arm goes numb before a heart attack, like something trying to escape before the event
A human seismograph, what the animals don’t ignore according to urban legend
A backup plan: we’ll build an ice skating rink in the arctic
Like an oasis in the desert, what we give up on: to keep moving
Before an anesthetic deep dive: all this (I gesture with my hands), a permanent dawnlight burning
You could make a national anthem out of the fabric
While I ramble on, all year long, about how we ruined Halloween
Like skimming a subtle red object
Off the water with my eyes closed

Nate Maxson is a writer and performance artist in Albuquerque, New Mexico.