[JACK REID]

Birdman

Naked, you lay
in the kitchen floor’s crater,
your body spread

like a map: clusters
of black chicken feathers.
duct tape. and papier-mâché.

Shrapnel
crackles in the mouth:
“better. we can do it. fly higher”

and yet, I peel away
skin upon skin of hardened wing
to reveal

your back
swelling its bruise patterns: blue
as murdered birds. Icarus,

the unreachable wounds.

[about]

Jack Reid resides in Waterford where he currently studies English and Theatre at the local Institute of Technology. He began writing as a teenager and has remained dedicated to his craft ever since. His work often uses myth and legend to explore issues of identity, alienation, and strained relationships. Previous publications include celestite poetry.