The Andean Condor Pities Me From its Cage/I Understand How Pride Has a Mind of Its Own
By: Durell Carter
You look down at the cockroach from your bar stool
That isn't afraid to acknowledge you
Because it knows there's a hole
That will hide them/ hide us
From the light of their trespassing gods' eyes
And you wonder how they/how we
are going to survive a world
That will require them to learn how to fly further
than their/ than our limitations
While you inhale cigarette ash
And listen to the music played in iconic 80s movies
with zero dance montages
Vibrating in your legs and the glass filling your sin of choice.
[Did you know that Andean Condor feed off the dead to survive?]
You listen to a fellow stranger tell you why we don't deserve wings
While you watch the ash from either their
future regret/past curse/but present pleasure,
Land on your left Converse.
You thank yourself for not wearing the shoes you bought yourself
For finding validation from another flightless human
For making them feel the moss you grew
From old memories
And pine sol-scented words.
[Did you know the Andean Condor only flies against the wind due to their size?]
There's a rabbit eating grass from the yard
proudly mowed every two weeks
in the summertime,
And it's allowed to
Because you pity nomads
that know their home translates
everywhere the wind believes in
Because we're taught the cage is pretty from birth
by the wraiths that were never forced to sleep in them.
[Did you know that the Andean Condor can live to be 80 years old protected from the world?]
There's an existence that can only be acknowledged
Through living chromatic scenes,
Velcro weeks,
And years we force ourselves to churn into moments,
And I only spend my experience points on surviving the seconds I know
Without having to count the feathers that never fell off
Wings that will never grow from my torso.
[Did you know the Andean Condor can fly high enough to see us for who we really are?]
Durell Carter is a writer and a teacher that lives in Oklahoma. He graduated from the University of Central Oklahoma with a graduate degree in English. He currently serves on the board of education for Red Dirty Poetry. He has work published in Drunk Monkeys, petrichor, Fauxmoir, and others. You can find more of his work on his website durellcarter.org.