“FAISÁN” : a poem about poultry again / SAY GRACE 6?


had a run in wi 2
dead couple birds the other day

and i made a gravy (pheasants by the way)
gravy granules boiling water
port and jellyredcurrent
and dark chocolate bit thereof

roasted em i roasted em
but when it came to carvin em i didn’t have a clue
and my dad came home
and made it look easy he
chopped them up with a big heavy knife
and handled them like the slimy roasted
cooked dead birds that they were

and i heard things crack and tear
and we ate a bit
and later he used the rest to make a stir fry

dead birds again dead birds again
my family /dead birds again
can pheasants fly dead birds again
dead birds again this christmas yeah
with gravies made for dead birds cooked i’m hungry happy holidays


i’m an only child and i think it shows

at least i’m writing again
mostly whining and wallowing
and wailing in wanting i
want to be wanted
and in absence of wanted i go from
worthless to jealous to paranoid to angry to
worthless to worthless to writing

*this might help*

feeling sick and weird and feeling full
of air or fear/on edge, aware of some
impending crushing sensation, i’m bleeding out

this new sensation, felt
physically and mentally
hard to see straight/concentration fading
into shivering unaccounted for
i’m weakness incarnate/i’m vulnerable
these 4 walls
and these 4 walls
and these 4 walls are not for me/wherever i go
is not for me when i’m
hyper-aware of my heart and my little innards
that don’t deserve it and never hurt anyone
i’m bleeding out and anxious
faintly throbbing numbness/feeling
full to the brim on nothing
and scared of it

and frustration today had me frustrated
mutated into some meta-frustration
unaccounted for/i’m bleeding out


what do i do?
where do i stand?
am i doing alright?
is this OK?
please, i need guidance

stop patronising me
can i sit back down?

what am i supposed to think about this?
ok whatever, it’s ‘bad’
sometimes it’s ‘good’
but then what am i supposed to think?
then what am i supposed to say?

i know it’s bad for me but i do it anyway
i’ll fucking do it until i go cross eyed
and then some
through hunger and fatigue
and responsibilities
i will do it

or is it double vision?

do something that grounds you
that ‘grounds’ you
leave a little you-shaped mark
an assertive little
reminds you-of-you shaped mark

get into it
make yourself laugh
make yourself think
one day maybe even make other people think
and question

maybe you’ll still be dysfunctional
and won’t know where to stand or what to do
or who to believe
or how to figure things out
but at least once, it was all you
leavin your own little mark