Birthday Letter Unsent

Posted by in Poems on Dec 4, 2011



Because he had hurt you

I seized him by the root of the tongue,

my tongue, and heaved him out


on to the grass, the pale creature.

He lay gasping, boneless and pathetic,

slippery with mucus, frog eyes rolling.


Because he had hurt you

I cut his throat

and bled him into a bucket


and burned him all to ashes.

But the wind blew the ashes

into the bucket,


and they turned into hoodie crows

that pecked the eyes of motherless lambs

and climbed into the air on ragged wings.


I tried to catch them, but they flew away.

Now they squat upon your rooftop,

shrieking hoarsely at your hoodie crows on mine.