BIRDING BODY BIND
Mia Scattergood
Lose yourself in the water cut-glut-flood
They’ll pick up where you leave off I promise
Let the moorhen
be next-of-kin
Be siskin
If you stop Exhaling
You won’t have to think about
A police bike for a toddler Plastic Blue Yellow White
Stabbed in the edges of the river
with the sewage spill / with the red robins / with the broken bottles and the poppers
If you lose yourself in the undergrowth
You’ll forget
There’s no shouting up/sitting in/living in glitter anymore
And there’s dead children
Whenever you open your eyes to see the sparrows
Later
Dog shit on the smear Men looking at your body
You’ve washed up all god-bloated
On the sod
Eyes closed
Covered by the grouted ground
O still burning
The birds
Moorhen, Siskin, Robin.