Dead Owls

I'm trying to listen.
I've talked so much
that my voice has
become muffled behind
cotton stuffing-
the stuff you're stuffed with
when you wake
to parrots
reciting the news of the hour:
life has escaped
our definitions...

I admit to
cotton pulling
this understory
of dead owls
pinned to my sleep...
Tearing open my ears
wide enough to be stuffed
with parots.