The Therapy Here is for the Birds
/Ivan Hobson
If the Internal Revenue Service audited seagulls,
a hundred or so of them would list this shipyard
as their primary place of business.
They would squawk job titles like:
food truck auditor, lunch time accountant,
and avian-Homo-sapien therapist (AHST).
Of note, AHSTs should not be confused with LPCs,
LMFTs, or any other psychological occupation
that requires accreditation or college degree.
In fact, and possibly relating to the high rate
of illiteracy amongst the entire seagull population,
there are currently no licensed AHSTs in the U.S..
Rather an AHST is more of an emotional practitioner,
one who is assertive and cosmopolitan enough
to specialize in one-on-one counseling.
Observe them at lunchtime, working the far spaces
of the shipyard where many of the troubled men
have gone to eat and unburden themselves.
Watch how their clients open up and confess,
paying with breads and meats—leaving leftovers as tips
before they walk back to their dim workshops.
And yes, there are pigeon AHSTs here too, but they
offer group therapy, like something you might find
in a parking lot, among smokers, after an A.A. meeting.
Author’s Note: The inspiration for the poem came from my interactions with seagulls, over years, while working at shipyards. Gulls are among the most intelligent of birds and are often open to developing individual relationships with people. Overtime, certain gulls recognized me and I recognized them, and we would routinely hangout with each other at lunch. Since some of the other shipyard workers had similar gull friendships and lunch routines, I started exploring that space: What do the workers get out of it? What do the gulls get out of it? At some point I realized that the seagulls were providing a type of therapy—listening and keeping things confidential—a seagull will never tell anyone your secrets. Instead of trying to constrain the poem in a weight of “poetic seriousness,” I just let myself follow my imagination—which made the writing and editing an enjoyable experience. The ending of the poem came from the observation that the pigeons at the shipyard act very different than the gulls.
Ivan Hobson is an MFA graduate from San Francisco State University. Along with teaching English at Diablo Valley College, he works as a shipyard machinist on Mare Island. His poems have been published in, among other places, the North American Review, Oxford Poetry, The Malahat Review, and The Poetry Foundation’s American Life in Poetry series. His first book of poetry, Cutting Teeth (Meadowlark Books), was released in 2022.
