Seagulls

[Done for poetry class, imitating W. S. Merwin]

Gorgeous things despite what they say knights-errant
     amongst the car exhaust and blowing litter
you take it with grace and put on your rags scavengers like
     the rest of us scavenging from the rest of us
snatching food from hands as a fine for those tourists
     using your space feathered amoral vigilantes
natives of the sea now parking lot flockers kissing the pavement
     with webbed feet wet with brine like teenagers spitting on
sidewalks courtiers ruffling cloaks rustled by breeze
     old men shaking their heads shouting invective at
the cars that drive past too fast for their liking
     sharp beaked, taloned, witted in that particular vacant way
hollow like your bones and hollow with the truth in promises
     never made and never broken and the accusations
dirty loud trashy things roll beaded off your feathers
     with a disdainfully dignified twitch of the head and a spread
of painted markings underneath wings take a pier for your perch
     launch out into salt and take a blanket of moisture and sand
begrudge us the land you masters of sun and waves
     you know more of permanence and value it less
alarm clocks for the world a sound that sticks in the brain
     heralds of ocean to those adrift on the vastness of land gatekeepers
to the resounding compass that points me east towards home