Still Life with Dead Birds, Fruit, and Vegetables by Juan Sánchez Cotán

Better you should hang me by my feet
so the blood would run out faster
when you cut my jugular with your knife-

words, and scald and pluck me good
so everyone can see my pink naked skin,
than to hang me in your Spanish pantry,

bodegón, just another interesting shape
in your arrangement, the way my feathers
contrast with your sweet blushing apples.

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…for a strange poem that wants to be beautiful

These are notes for a strange poem that wants to be beautiful.
It starts, you will not be surprised to learn, with the full moon
behind broken backlit clouds, shining through in a pattern
that reminds me of the Crab Nebula, words you will now
Google Image Search, and in the process you will learn
it is made of stardust, remnants of a supernova explosion
whose light reached Japan in 1054 A.D., and now we are thinking
of your Samurai poem and wondering if stardust is made of fragments
of old poems that have echoed across space since the Big Bang.
What’s the difference between naked and nekkid? Nekkid, you say,
is fixin’ for trouble. What’s the difference between violin and fiddle?
Fiddle, I say, smells like beer. My hand is on your damp back
as we  push through the crowd to the dance floor. The moon
is high above the clouds, a single pearl on the black velvet sky.
Three crows were on the road this morning, signifying what?