The Alien Tree (A poem of alienation)

Hacking at the wood of the strange, dark tree;
hacking off its five fat, stubby branches;
its branches that weave in the spirit hand of wind;
the biting cold wind that makes my body numb.

Hacking into its bark, I crack into its bone;
red blooms and berries branch out from inside,
then the trunk gapes and screeches like a human screaming.
I see a bright red bird asleep on the floor
but, oh god, it’s not a bird or a tree! It’s
my hand!