Roadkill

Today, I found a dead bird

Crushed into the real bland clay

Brittle bones like snapped twigs

Velvet through the scurrying things

I crossed myself

Forlorn, you lie

Scrapped and drossed by the world

Savaged by the tires and tossed in the tar

Broken in the English dirt

A carapace for the carrion crown

And for the beaks that peck

Clenched beneath my flesh

Soil beneath my soil

Today I've found

A dead bird

(Blind are the brokers and the unskilled workers)

Blind are the brokers and the unskilled workers

(Your wings beneath their wheels)

Your wings beneath their wheels

(Blind are the brokers and the unskilled workers)

Blind are the brokers and the unskilled workers

(Your bones beneath their heels)

Today, I found a dead bird