Net Surfing - Mary Mackey

[Guest guest]

Net Surfing 2:00 A.M. by Mary Mackeyin the great invisible

electroniclibrary of the worldthe real thing is nothingimage is

allbleary with coffeeand grief for a friendwho died the day beforeI

find myself staring at the screen and wonderinghow many pixels it

takesto make a wood duckor an island of black frigate birdsmating in

the mangrovestheir globed orange throat pouchespulsing with birdly

lustin front of mein a space no larger than two hands spannedI can

watch flocks of pink flamingosmigratingstick-legged, silly-beakedbits

of egg-laying confettileft over from the big partyof creationthere’s a

comfort to the sightof so many birds. Here at least, I think, life

outruns extinctiononce in Cambridgein the Peabody MuseumI came across

the last passenger pigeonever sighted in Americaneatly stuffedwith

combed feathers and agate eyessitting on a fake limb in a glass

caseunder a card which informed methat it had been shotby the Harvard

expedition of 1893once I readthat Audubon himselfkilled to sketchnowin

front of meelectronic snow geeseby the thousandsswirl over the

marshesof the Central Valleynow in one nightI can seemore cranes and

heronsthan ever fled southbefore the snows of winterI touch the

screen with my fingertipstaste it with my tonguehow cold this tiny

window isthat drugs me with perpetual flighton tapes and chips and

CD-ROMthe programmers have recreated paradiseand yet . . . I pause,

consider, and decide: I strike a keyI click the mouseI let myself

forgetthe crossed out phone numberthe returned mailthe name he no

longer answers tothe silent woodsthe long darknessthe quietempty sky.

~ Copyright 1997, Mary Mackey

 

 

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