Among twenty piles of Critical Thinking exams
The only moving thing
Was a blackbird that somehow got into my office. WTF.
I was of three minds
How exactly do you get a blackbird out of your office? And how did it get in? When?
The blackbird flapped up against the window
But it was closed.
A man and a woman are one
A man and a woman and a blackbird
A professor and a blackbird and an office
I do not know which to prefer
Running away and locking my door
Or opening my door and having the blackbird fly into the hall
Or calling Bergen County Animal Control.
The blackbird keeps pecking at the window
Barbarically befogged and unwashed
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro
The problem was,
It couldn’t get out.
Hello Bergen County Animal Control?
Yes, it’s a blackbird
Yes, it’s in my office, at Felician University
(Yes, we’re a University now)
No, I can’t open the window because it keeps attacking it
And I don’t want to get pecked.
I know I’m being ridiculous
I’m know I’m being a coward
But I know, too
That the blackbird
Could peck my eyes out like in a Hitchcock film.
When the blackbird flew out of sight
It perched regally atop the statue of an Egyptian goddess
Given to me as a gift by a student from Alexandria
Who miraculously managed to pass Critical Thinking a couple years ago.
At the sight of the blackbird perched away from the window
I feel some relief
Maybe I can open the window now
And let him out. So I do. But now the damn thing won’t leave.
Half an hour later it’s still there
Wait, there’s Animal Control on my cell.
A fear now pierces me
What if the blackbird flies away before the officer sees that it was here?
I am running
Down three flights of stairs to where the Animal Control guy is
It was Sunday all afternoon in Kirby Hall
The sun was shining
The Animal Control guy walked with me to my office
The blackbird took one look at him
And shot with a flourish through the open window.