Blackbirds on Underground Telephone Wires

They dug holes
Not small holes
They were big holes
There were lots of them too
A lot more than you’d expect
But there had to be
To dig such big holes
The city officials were in shock
The mayor threw a fit
The city planner was fired
He didn’t plan for this
The scenery was much nicer though
No wires to obstruct the view
Problem was
Occasionally
Some tourist would be walking around
Looking around
And not notice one of the holes
You should see the birds take off
When the tourists fall in
Then the sightseer would climb out
And shake his fists at the birds
But he shouldn’t blame them
After all
They just wanted some place to sit

© 2007 Brendan McBreen
(The American Drivel Review Autumn 2007)

I took my pen apart
To give it a fresh start
The spring
Is a thing I have never seen
That resembles so much a heart

~~~~~

two graffiti names
‘X’ed out
faded and chipped between
the word
“Loves”

~~~~~

rain rattles
down spout
ivy captures
a whole new spectrum
of green

Haiku Poems

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