By Annette Marie Hyder

my thoughts are birds
that will not stop flocking to you
telephone-wire-synapses
thrum
with their perched regard

they migrate north instead of south
in this orientation
i try to shoo them
towards sunlight and warmth —
the interest of other men

but they keep finding
the prismatic shine of your ice
irresistible

i want flamingos, bright and exotic,
parakeets, cardinals or bluebirds will do
instead i get magpies
with their love of things that are shiny
and all fixated on you