The NS Poem: Mechanical birds

A new poem by John Porter. 

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My garden is full of mechanical birds 
they flutter freely
build real nests,
splatter synthetic shit 
with abandon. 
The feathers are painted 
by gifted interns 
paid nothing 
but allowed to hold a bird
once a week.
I track the flock
on my phone until 
tapping the screen 
brings them back to my shed
where I pull apart wires,
break fragile necks,
watch the light fade,
then in the morning 
solder the world 
together again.


John Porter is a poet based in Gloucestershire. His work has appeared in publications including "The Stinging Fly", "Prole" and "Strix".

This article appears in the 27 November 2020 issue of the New Statesman, The last days of Trump

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