Welcome back for Zoeglossia’s Poem of the Week series curated this month by Raymond Antrobus.
March 29, 2021
Audio
bird song
By Jamie Hale
View the full text below.
bird song
By Jamie Hale
each winter convinced that i am dying
the signs point to no the crow balanced
on my hospital bed laughs i
do not laugh back it's how the days
curl in on themselves wincing from cold
they do not wish to be out after dark
and suddenly
my scalp is bleeding it must be the bird
or you it is hard to tell men from winged
demons you ponderous you slick with oil
and rotted fish maybe i become a bird myself
gash the scalp of the child. who does not wish
to be out after dark who does not wish
to become a bird
Jamie Hale has dark red hair, red glasses, and a ginger beard. They are in 3/4 view, staring into the distance, their face washed out by the sun. They sit in an electric wheelchair, wearing a leather jacket. Behind them are some out-of-focus bushes
Jamie Hale is a poet, essayist, and curator interested in the intimate connections between the (disabled) body, nature, and mortality. Their poetry has been published by The Rialto, Magma, and more, and they have performed it in venues including the Tate Modern, Southbank Centre, and Barbican Centre, where they curate the d/Deaf and disabled arts showcase CRIPtic (2019, 2021). Their first pamphlet, Shield was published by Verve in Jan 2021.