Get Down Bird

 


Little Flynn fall-walking 

in the pink dust of a Paris park

shouting to nesting birds 

wonky fringe cut in the bath


Memory birds in the clear sky

flying through a thin soup of everything


doctor

I need you to take this blancmange in my skull 

and pull out these single moments and

cut out the tarry worry I woke up with

and reswallowed

give me those moments that I lose without scent and sound

and the new pages of the rush 

of a child from their childhood


Let me live in a carousel of moments

fresh baby heads

toilet chat

cuddles over the sea


Keep those birds with me

let them land in my hand 

or hop on branches alongside me



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