Remember when that stray in our town died of neglect?
A buzzard bore its body to the erupting tarmac
behind the sweet factory
and tore at it there half-heartedly.
He was not hungry
but scavenging was in his nature.
It took him weeks to clean its bones
to the violin hum of the overhead wires.
Most of our places are gone now
and those that remain are filled with people
who stare at us blankly
who have no love for anything
who delight in ugliness
and spread it thickly on everything they see.
I delight in it myself these days.
What else is there?
Mary Ford Neal is a writer and academic from Glasgow. Her poetry has been published widely in print and online, and has been Pushcart and Best of the Net nominated. She is the author of two recent poetry collections: ‘Dawning’ (Indigo Dreams, 2021) and ‘Relativism’ (Taproot Press, 2022). Mary is an assistant editor of Nine Pens Press.
More work by Mary Ford Neal
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