Starlings don’t belong here.
They are not native, just like Californians
who came here looking to live cheap.
Houses cost a bundle these days,
thanks to them.

Wrens can’t find a place to roost.
Too many birds sleeping in the wrong places.
Under railroad tracks, in cemeteries, and highways.
Not to mention the homeless;
people, some of them vets, standing on corners, waving flags, asking for anything you can spare;
loose change, a kiss, but no chocolate.
Their dogs would get sick.
Some people give them warm socks.

A lot like feeding birds who used to feed themselves.
Now starlings eat their young, steal their food.
Such is life.
We can kiss frogs goodbye,
they will never turn into princes;
they cannot even stay frogs.

It used to rain here in the winter;
that’s not happening much either.

As for the homeless and all the people
we do not want but sometimes need;
don’t have homeless shelters
can’t send them to the moon,
try to build walls.
Make them invisible.
Kiss them goodbye.
Once invited in, you can’t get rid of them.

Open the windows, they won’t fly out.
Invasive species, all around us.
We brought it on ourselves.
Sit up all night dancing to the moon.
Light incense, pray to the goddess
of things that don’t belong.
We have let things in.
All this and other things
we should have left alone.