Myna Birds
︎︎︎ Tao Lin
︎ April 20, 2021
Searching memory for last happiness.
Hitting lit fireworks with a tennis racket.
Arranging stuffed animals around me
in bed to protect against the unknown.
Lying on suburban carpet trying to think
something about fractals. Lying to myself
about how to be happy, I flew to a city.
Buildings and psyops marked time
helping me remember more of my life.
Polypharmaconic, health-insured
humans blacked out above/below me
protecting themselves against sadness
and loneliness. I left incrementally.
I went to places with less people.
Cat-gecko-cockroach complexes
oscillated against the floor and walls
saying something about the unknown.
Pairs of myna birds deflected light
into my mind as they flew away
from the ground together.
Hitting lit fireworks with a tennis racket.
Arranging stuffed animals around me
in bed to protect against the unknown.
Lying on suburban carpet trying to think
something about fractals. Lying to myself
about how to be happy, I flew to a city.
Buildings and psyops marked time
helping me remember more of my life.
Polypharmaconic, health-insured
humans blacked out above/below me
protecting themselves against sadness
and loneliness. I left incrementally.
I went to places with less people.
Cat-gecko-cockroach complexes
oscillated against the floor and walls
saying something about the unknown.
Pairs of myna birds deflected light
into my mind as they flew away
from the ground together.
Tao Lin is the author of Leave Society, Trip, Taipei, and other books. He lives in Hawaii. Visit his website at taolin.us.