Steven Schroeder | mockingbird
after visiting Austin for the first time a friend of mine recalled a car alarm
that set off by wind set off a mockingbird who sang a mock alarm in real time
a mockingbird who sang a culture made of mirrors and a disturbing song
Austin's better as a figment
of imagination
than as a city
and Texas as a state
of mind.
Both in memory
sing music
seldom heard
in places out of mind
and neither in memory
is composed of August heat
that cultures yoghurt on the back porch
breeds rangers rednecks George W cockroaches
to make you expecting a human presence
answer the door
and the cat faint
when they scrabble against it.
Exile and memory
make the place
a dip in a cold spring
a drink with friends
a mockingbird
that sings visions
not mirrors
like Dallas
of infinite regression
and car alarms.
from Halcyon 21, Community in the American West | 1999
