Patrick Dundon is an MFA candidate at Syracuse University where he serves as assistant poetry editor for Salt Hill. His poems have appeared in Smoking Glue Gun, Poor Claudia, and Toad.
While brushing my teeth, I found a small bird in my throat. As I lifted my chin to get a better look, a little foam dripped onto my neck and fell to the tile floor. The bird wanted out, so I rinsed and lay face-up on the couch. It ate through my trachea, pushed its body through a hole no bigger than a grape, flew into the living room window and fell to the floor, stunned, its feathers soaked in blood. As I waited for it to wake up, I began to believe the ceiling fan was a helicopter, unable to lift off.