Listen to a podcast of Alexandra Seidel’s “Pigeons.”
Pigeons
My mother would take me
to the park
each Sunday
In the park
on Sundays
we’d kill pigeons
one each at least
My mother and I
would pluck the feathers
from the pigeons
we killed
in the park
on Sundays
From the feathers
we took
from the pigeons
we killed
we’d make for ourselves
lovely dresses
that would startle the eye
And the naked pigeons
we’d leave in the park
to cool and rot
Every Sunday
me and my mother
would leave one little
pigeon corpse
each
at least
Listen to a podcast of Alexandra Seidel’s “Grandmamma’s Axe.”
Grandmamma’s Axe
My grandma was mad at me
because I’d axed the duck.
It had been an old duck
so I felt
that my axe had been an act
of pity.
My grandma however
could not be appeased by that.
When I asked her
why
she was so mad about
my axing the duck
she said
she had been rather fond
of the old duck;
she said
the old duck
reminded her of herself
a little wobbly on its feet,
feathers often ruffled
and out of fashion,
too old to fly and swim
with the young ducks or swans
My grandma
who had been so mad
about my axing the duck
looked wistful now.
I was gripped by compassion and said:
‘Well grandma, don’t worry,
I have my axe
still here!’
And for emphasis
I waved the bloody instrument
in front of her eyes.
‘No, thank you child, it’s
kind of you but
unlike the old duck
I won’t spend my days
sulking. Now, my child,
hand me that axe!’
And I handed the duck-blood soaked
axe
to my grandma.
‘What do you want
with my axe,
grandmamma?’
I asked curiously
and grandmamma
said with a happy smile
on her wrinkled old face:
‘Why, child, I was thinking
about axing
some tender swan
for supper tonight.’
About the author:
Alexandra Seidel is 25 years old and writes both prose and poetry. She spends her free time looking for inspiration and practicing martial arts. As it happens, both go great together. Her work has appeared in the ‘Bottom Of The World’ magazine.
