A misplaced magnet in a compass
makes the arrow spin like records did
before we burned them all, and replaced
them with the noises neurons
make inside our heads.
I once got drunk with a girl
that’s whole career was reviewing
backyard sheds. She always hated
the ones that were painted red
as they were nothing but imitations
of larger barns.
Her real passion was owls though
and she would sometimes catch them
in her flashlight beam in the corners
of these stuffy wooden structures.
They would blink at her and sometimes
make a noise as if requesting
an extra few minutes to close their eyes.
I remember asking what made
the most interesting owl,
and was shocked she had such
a strong opinion on the matter.
She told me that with owls
the best were always stupid.
I asked her why and she explained
that owls were always expected
to be wise or omens of something
intellectually grand.
She preferred the unwise owls
that ate paint chips, and flew so high
you almost couldn’t find them.
Teleporting Typewriter 