Poem-A-Day: Day 180

Wind Wires

There wasn’t anything left
when I had finished with whatever it was,
my memory is fleeting;
a bird flying backward on the highway,
so I can’t remember what it was
when it first started out
as whatever it originally had been.
Whatever it was, I obliterated it,
left nothing to be salvaged
except for a length of wire
and some hunks of fat
that no doubt fell from my mouth
as I chewed like an animal over
the remains of the mystery
that haunts me to this very day.
There wasn’t anything of it worth noting though.
As far as I know, it was nothing to begin with,
and what I ate was merely the air
shaped by my own fleeting memory flying backwards,
dodging the wires that adorn the highway.
The wires are connected by wooded poles
and metal structures
that vaguely resemble the Eiffel Tower.
Whatever it was, it has ceased to be
at the hands of someone who didn’t care,
or just can’t remember that he did.
All I remember is the bird’s backwards flight,
and the wires in the wind.