Out in the dregs of
Maryb’rough West
On rickety fence, ‘round
playground dead
Sit birds in row, a
murder of crows
Starved eyes stare me
down, follow me round
We’re all skin and bone,
no food, no hope
Far from our homes, in
these parts unknown
Can’t feed myself, let
alone starved crows
Out in them dregs of
Maryb’rough West
‘Round playground, dead,
sit starved birds, in row
Glad
they’re on the fence, that murder of crows
