Dana Trupa
A Deleted Scene From Hitchcock’s The Birds:
“Bloodletting The White Lady”
EXT. BODEGA BAY — DAY
Overcast, the blue-black
clouds; dead leaves
twizzling on the sidewalk. Back-
wind whiffles her puffy hood.
Hands stuffed deep in her pockets
when the tip
of the red-tailed hawk’s
right wing
tricks
her left elbow. She looks there,
as the hawk dove ahead
swooping White Lady—
a young girl jumps back
in horror.
The politics
of nature
render
us helpless—
speechless—
Patient, the chicken hawk preys,
stabs in—Lady flutters
on the ground; tufts of white
feathers stripped between
his talons—steeped deep in her guts.
We did not see
it coming.
No “coo roo-c’too.” No
beak snapping.
No birds hissing.
A quelled pen, he dips the red
ink, blood-lets the pools; memos
sink into concrete. With Lady tucked
under his dead weight, they
vanish into the dark-dusk.
Dana Trupa‘s poems are forthcoming in the Red Cedar Review. She was born in Pittsburgh and is a 20-year NYC transplant and recent graduate of Hunter College with a BA in English Literature. She lives and works as a dog whisperer in Manhattan.
SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.
If you want to support the mission and work of Indolent Books, consider making a tax-deductible contribution to Indolent Arts Foundation, a 501(c)(3) charity.