Backyard Poems | Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens went to NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts and currently lives in the DC area with her family. She is the author of six chapbooks. Recent ones are forthcoming from Crisis Chronicles Press and Shirt Pocket Press. Her first full length poetry collection is forthcoming from Lucky Bastard Press. Recent work can be seen / is forthcoming at, Pretty Owl Poetry, Gargoyle, Jet Fuel Review, glitterMOB, Pith, So to Speak, Apple Valley Review, Otis Nebula, Freezeray, Entropy, Right Hand Pointing, and decomP. For more, visit: http://jennifermacbainstephens.wordpress.com/.
Backyard Poem # 8
The shiny green bottle flies swarm in the corner of the cherry tree. Like business men wearing the same suit from Men’s Warehouse they buzz about looking for discounts. Bugs avoiding the swatter, no searching Google maps, movie ticket apps, no arguing over the cleanest stout. Following commercial flight paths they continually commute. Sniff out moist compost. Land, regurgitate, rub legs together. They don’t even know the species we named them: Calliphoridae. Survive, flourish. A robin plucks one by the back stairs and swallows it whole. The mob continues their busy work, eats, mates, return, repeat. The Fly nailed it. It’s just too hard to mesh concepts. As the body changes the brain cannot handle it. In mostly fly body, Jeff Goldblum says he is “getting better.” Don’t sweat it Jeff, you look good with compound eyes and mouthparts.