THERE ARE BIRDS IN MY GARDEN,
THEY'RE DEAD
BUT THEIR TINY BODIES REMAIN UNTOUCHED
NO SCAVENGER'S COME
AND BITTEN OF THE HEAD
THEY LIE QUIETLY AND UNDISTURBED
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PRISTINE PRESERVED
VIRGINS WITH WINGS OUTSPREAD
AND PINHEAD SIZE
PITCH_BLACK GLAZY EYES
THAT SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU
BUT NOT THE SKIES
NOT ONE OR TWO BUT THREE
A THREE DEAD BLUE TIT SPREE
AND I CANNOT IGNORE THIS
NOR PRETEND
SO I BUILD THEM LITTLE CROSSES
AND ON A CROSS EACH WENT
THERE YOU GO,
I SAY RELIEVED, AND
WILE SITTING ON MY NAKED KNEES
I PET THEM ON THEIR STAND
THERE... YOU... GO
SOME SORT OF MEANING
TO YOUR FEATHER'S BITTER END
/// SPRING 024 ///