They talk all day and when it starts to get dark they lower their voices to converse with their own shadows and with the silence. They are like everybody —the parakeets— all day chatter, and at night bad dreams. With their gold rings on their clever faces, brilliant feathers and the heart restless with speech... They are like everybody, —the parakeets— the ones that talk best have separate cages.
From Dawn of the Senses: Selected Poems of Alberto Blanco. Copyright © 1995 by Alberto Blanco. Reprinted by permission of City Lights Books.