that last bird in the aerie: birdman part 8

Hey guys, after that week of video video, it's time to give you the finale to "the birdman" series. How will it end? Who will die? Does he like to watch Adult Swim? Read on, gentle audience.

p.s. cool visuals, Barnyard

I am so old, he thought, and gazed into the sky before

returning to his house.

I am not so new, but to be fresh

requires little, I have my way and my new

night, I have this fire pistol and my

old clothes and the bend of my knee, I have

freedom again and to

be away from the lack of diner windows

does not do me low, I am

a different neon light in the eve to blink more than three

times, oh oh I believe

I can.

his house yielded. the morning was upon him.

time for all

good heroes to retire. sleep,

if ever, was a thing

of

love. but I have, he told himself, and sat

in his kitchen counting

the click tic of seconds. night,

my friend, comes alive.

the birdman

merely waited.

the birdman part VII

A birdman never forgets, and although it has been some time since the last post, he's back to give you a taste of the night wicked and cracked and spines and girls in oyster shops cracking up with hot sauce (inspired!). Taste the night with my feathered, superhero friend. Part VII:

he was ready to return home. the birdman

plummeted as the stones

of our fathers’ across old fields we never knew.

he crossed paths with a villain

upon his

way.

the man sneered. the birdman cracked him upon the back of the head.

window dance,

city times, believe in love

of the old order of sewer grates

and coffee shop hymnals, crush the pomegranate stand

on the corner of 8^th and 8^th,

particles of brick, hot industrial glue, a horse

shoe imprint upon cobblestone,

wicked waterways, the dust of the saloon man without

his gold watch,

dust in the tenement building,

old men and women in ivory bathtubs near telephone

wires.

the villain stumbled and faltered and fell. the birdman,

aloof for freedom,

continued his noble way.

the birdman part VI

Hey love kids, how was the weekend? Getting ready for a performance from the Bohos? Well, come Saturday, you will be entertained. To celebrate the coming of austinnewblog's second live performance at Domy Books on August 30th (at 8PM, wink wink), I'll be posting little odds and ends we've accumulated during various recording sessions. And of course, more of the Birdman will be flying into your coup. Have a good week and don't get drunk on Tuesday.

the birdman began to cry. he was perched upon

a gentle fire escape.

across the way, a beauty was putting away her suitcase and

clothing. she was a black swan

in a desert or

something glass and quiet.

the birdman began to cry.

the first post - the birdman part V

Hey guys, my internet connection was being stupid, so I'm just now able to get online and give you the next part of my "birdman" series. Hope you likes. Also, hey, look how hard us Bohos work to bring new media to you faithful readers (hope to see you at Domy on the 30th; wink wink). It's all for you, baby, and it's beautiful too.

an ugly gentleman with high

teeth finagled around a dumpster. the birdman pointed

his pistol.

the vagrant halted. the birdman laughed.

you can have it all.

he left the bum to his broken oranges.

the birdman strikes again: part IV

Hey guys, it's been awhile since I've dropped a line on his adventures. Here's more of the birdman for you fabulous freaks.

the nature of a crime fighter, a super hero,

any old piece

of laundry atop the basket, prized

and fresh and newly

clean,

is of harrowing lights from

midnight lanterns, or the faint hiss of escaping

fog on a twilight street.

oh god it is beautiful, the birdman said,

and took care to stand still

under a street lamp corner. if a villain be muggy

and rugged now I have

much for him.

he was a birdman and thusly could not contain himself.

the birdman part III

Hey guys, here is the third installment of my poem "The Birdman." Also, big news: the austinnewblog literary zine Boho Coco is now out and about. You can find free copies at: Waterloo, Book People, Cheapo Discs, 12th Street Books, The Hideout, Progress Coffee, Bouldin Creek, and End of an Ear. Go out and get 'em while they last. Also, there will be more copies at our August 30th reading (at 8PM) at Domy Books. So go and chase those things down already; lord knows they need proper homes in the hands of literary lovers. Also also, Jeff and I were out and about today ourselves, shooting some video in some strange places, so look for that all week too. Cool. Enjoy the poem.

he made love not too long after.

a woman

of pale flesh, pale fire, did so lonely look across a cafe

as he entered.

the birdman was ready to chew off her shoes,

but she looked at him between cigarettes

and tapped him on the shoulder.

if a dream is only to be alive and to realize that

the hours are

not right

then the birdman made love until waking in the arms of a small

thing. her lips were

red as colors so bright not meant

formally. the birdman heard the roll

of the taxi outside

and thought of his daughter. she was

a lover too, fighting it out

somewhere amidst fire hydrants and curtain calls.

actress, he whispered, and his tiny

lover gazed upon him. then

he was

prepared to be alone.

the birdman part II

Hey fabulous funsters, here's the second part to "The Birdman." Look out, he might be perched outside your window now. Also, go read Watchmen if you haven't already. Cowabunga! Also also, the literary journal form of austinnewblog - Boho Coco - will be hitting stores (ie. coffee shops, bookstores, broken into apartments) tomorrow. Cowabunga!

the birdman

sat in the corner of the alleyway. I oh I oh

I am a criminal

and what would I want, he pretended to think. his wife

was

in the past, his

rose leaf face was now,

the tire of the cab at midnight was two hours waiting.

the birdman was happy. he felt cold pistol in his hands and

watched older

children escape the strange rancor of the alleyways.

I am to be bitten tonight by the moon

so gallant, he hushed, and sat in the corner of the alleyway.

poetry Saturday featuring the Birdman

And everybody's having fun! Here's a new long-form poem I've written that I'll be posting in segments. It's titled "The Birdman," and it was inspired by Alan Moore's character Nite Owl from the awesome graphic novel "Watchmen." Alright, have a good day my best of friends.

at first

it

was merely about feathers in the chimney,

sparks of sapphire

to a common man,

but he must have been dreaming of giant birds. he must have

been dreaming of god.

a picture of a woman in an old robe red regal gone

sat upon the

dresser next to

him.

he was beside himself.

the old feeling struck once more,

to be new, to be humble, that made him correct

himself. he grabbed

a gun

and headed into the night,

like

the first few times, fighter of crime,

bat or owl,

fighter of injustice. as a child he dreamed of being a super hero.