Reading · Myself now includes

This March I wrote the poem below, mindfull that we’re approaching the first anniversary of the death of the beautiful, singing hedge - cared for by our bird loving neighbour for so many years.

Their absence weighs heavy on my mind. Our neighbour and her singing assembly - a feathered and weathered and barky and bountiful congregation.

I really can’t talk about the hedge as an ‘it’ - this entangled community is so far from being just one thing - the hedge is a high up multitude of beings and a low down, dirty, mulch of matter. They sing, sway, blossom and decay in bursts of sun shine energy - to an urgent soundtrack of starling and sparrow and a jumble of others.

Their complex community of winged and rooted beings, the visible and invisible commonwealth of life that they gave rise to, their scents and shadows -the seasonal symphony of leafy gains and loses.

The absence of this jumble of wonder has been a gnawing, saddening reminder of the motornormativity that abounds - our new neighbours removed the hedge with brutality, in a bid to increase parking space. It’s also testament to the human centric perspective that pervades the way we garden.

I’ve been toying with the idea of the best kind, the right kind of Hedge Fund Managers for sometime…..

~h~e~d~g~e~~f~u~n~d~~m~a~n~a~g~e~r~s~

Earthbound
Rooty
Thorned
Blossom Adorned
Hedge Fund Managers

Fuck the fiscal
Ditch the banknotes
In favour of beak notes
And barky fissures

Soily
Sparrowed
Sung through, spun through
Hedge Fund Managers

Shed the shilling
Bring in the willing – those tiny paws and claws, antenna, mandibles and jaws

I the spider manage the hedge
I the sparrow who sits on the edge
Manage the hedge
I thank you spider

We the roots manage the hedge
We praise you sparrow, applaud you spider
Such depths we sink to, the earth’s insiders

We the microbes manage the hedge
We love you roots, we live you sparrow, we feel you spider

We the leaves we manage the hedge.
We owe you microbes, we grow you roots, we hold you sparrow, you weave us spider

I the sun manage the hedge
I shine you through and warm you well
Together we cast each shadow’s spell
You catch me sparrow, you draw me spider

I the wind manage the hedge
Your spaces my places
I hover you sparrow, I fly you spider

We the branches manage the hedge
We offer you shape, scaffold and structure
You grip us sparrow, we frame you spider

Such funds, such wealth
Such brawn and thorn and health
These Hedge Fund Managers

We the shoots, we manage the hedge
We green your branches and nudge you hither
We signal flower and hint at summer
We cradle you spider, we mask you sparrow

Our interest is purely for the interested

We account for everyone

Still, things are in the balance

Our profits are but berries and blossom
Our targets are bees and beetles

Our growth is a joyful jumble of gains and losses
Of compost sifted at our ankles
Of cooled ground
And quieted sound
Of gathered particulates
And - s l o w e d - d o w n - w a t e r

We hold ground

You might be a liability but oh, are we invested in your future!

We, the Hedge Fund Managers

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~h~e~d~g~e~~f~u~n~d~~m~a~n~a~g~e~r~s

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