Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- #deadraccoonto September 9, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:22 pm
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In the Toronto dawn

the sun crept silently up to the

last mortal remains of the pudgy bandit,

laid out on the sidewalk like a sacrifice.

The call went out:

Three-one-one!  Three-one-one! Come!

The City promised swift removal of the corpse.

But–political promises being oft full of air–

the raccoon remains remained throughout the day.

Not content to leave sleeping Procyonidae lie

crowds marked the site of his demise,

memorial to the adorable, nocturnal beast

with flowers, photos, Tweets, and cards,

pseudo-grief growing with the day

while #deadraccoonto began to decay.

Until by the light of the moon (a raccoon’s party hour)

The City van came to gather the cadaver,

but left the flowers.



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This was a social media event in July .  The body of a raccoon was found and reported.  A spontaneous mock-memorial grew up around it.  It was all recorded on Twitter, with even a council member  (Norm Kelly) participating.  I think it makes a fascinating commentary of social media through parody.



poem-bongo birthday July 7, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:50 am
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I want bongos for my birthday

beat beat beat

Oh I want them in the worst way

beat beat beat

Listen to the poets

go at the words

Have you heard their thoughts curled



about their heads?

Those poets glow, man

beat beat beat

I wanna go find some bongos, man

Find the beat

fire the heat

be complete with the time, the rhyme,

Oh so sublime

beat beat beat

Bongos, man.




(My birthday was this week.  I did NOT get bongos.  Boo hoo.)

(Or a beret or tight black pants, though that’s probably for the best).


poem- not tree July 13, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:35 pm
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T h i s   i s   a







(Snicker.  Sometimes I do things just to amuse myself.  Ignore me).


poem- unfinished Canadian joke June 5, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:23 am
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On the side of the highway:

a body of thick fur and flat leathery tail.

Why did the beaver cross the road?

I guess we’ll never know.



poem- Mr. Williams April 6, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:13 pm
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Mr. Williams,

What is so important

about that



Does cleaning out

the chicken coop

really warrant

such angst?



With vague apologies to William Carlos Williams (what was your mother thinking?) and his apparently crucial wheelbarrow.


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