sara ryan

thrust your hook into his pelvis

and suspend him in midair. this

is so you can work with both

hands.

be gentle with his neck. give his legs

a coat of arsenical soap—it protects

him from insects. disjoint his bones carefully.

fill him up. with cotton,

dry leaves, grass, or

crumpled paper. wood wool

is driest and best.

when you take him home

notice his body: like a great

downy pillow. his bill

as long as a fence rail.

and what wings! and such feet!

you have never seen such a bird,

not even in your dreams.

in your dreams, he is an old,

rusty, second-hand crow. he

is some good genius.

a thimbleful of arsenic. a pair

of eyes black as ink.

when you stitch him up

make sure to treat him like

a lucky bird, not a greasy swan.

he should have a few stitches

at his back, but not too many.

for obvious reasons.

you wouldn’t want him

to look a fool.

OF MEN & BIRDS