Richard Brautigan Versus Feeding the Birds

Richard Brautigan proposed writing at least one poem for everyone.  I suppose that might have been somewhat ambitious.  And, frankly, not everyone appreciates poetry.

I am more modest in my thinking.  My plan is to feed any birds that find my front yard.  Each day, I broadcast seeds across the ground for the mourning doves and jays.  I fill my birdfeeder with chipped sunflower seeds.  Crossbills and house finches use the feeder.  Chickadees take seeds from my hands.       

I am mostly satisfied with my work on feeding the birds.

In 1982, I spent a few afternoons and evenings drinking beer with Brautigan in Bozeman, Montana.  We talked about writing—poetry included.  Wallace Stevens wrote a poem entitled Poetry Is a Destructive Force.  The last line of the poem is this: “It can kill a man.”

Stevens proved correct.  Richard Brautigan commuted suicide in 1984.  He was, at the time, 49 years old and a writer published in some 30 languages. 

Poetry kills.

Feeding the birds is impractical, but is does not kill.  And even though I am harmless, the birds scatter if I get too close.  I think of Brautigan as they do.      

—Mitchell Hegman