Gash of Flights

a gash collapses peace in the gunsmoke fog

of internationally thin borders,

as pirates, fulcrums on wing

hit their crest of up arcs,

and break in bursts at stranded 

foam in intertidals, pistolborne,

toward minnow balls 

glinting like shed munitions, or

toward a pier of pigeons.

klaxon cries boil the air 

as they pierce and the skittish 

skirmish splits in party lines,

raptors and fry-eaters, all speckled lean.
an abandoned wrapper kites off the pier
in the wind, limply wounded by beaks 
while the inhuman speech of wings,

Ms and Vs, sees it leave through the haze,
leaving light, a listerined rubber

bouquet and the unheeded 

catcall of seals below