Portrait of the Artist as a Dodo, 1598-1662

[milo]

We were a sluggardly bird,
or stately, depending on the witness,
living off fallen fruit,
on an island paradise of inept predators.
We built our nests on the ground out of grass
flightless as we are
and laid one egg per clutch.

Hunger came to paradise
sailors scavenging for food.
Delighted with our tameness
they ate us by the hundreds,
and gave us an insulting name.
Portuguese with a taste for monkey meat
let some of their omnivorous delicacy get loose,
and they multiplied
came at us in troops,
stealing the eggs, dragging off the juveniles.
The Dutch brought pigs
whose feral generations
rooted up nests and eggs and devoured our young
and finally abolished us.

We found an islet
where the tide stops the monkeys and pigs.
But over there I see
some shipwrecked sailors
wading in our direction.

I want to return to this as there is a lot to like here but the constant tense shifts are too distracting, are the deliberate?