Note to a crow
Note to a crow
xxxxxx-sun blue and cloud white ribs show beyond the lower gray clouds, which look like they’ve been drinking charcoal. A good-bye hero sky moving in to spell a day off.
An east-southeast wind dragging rain up from Jersey. A day off means actual sleep. But it is too early to call. These sonsofbitches have gone out in hurricanes and balked at drizzly two-foot whitecaps. My fate is open: a skate back to the showers or a monkey aboard to be yelled at for watching the sun rise on the sea instead of the scum on the lines.
I have three cigs.
A bottle of shoplifted Sprite.
No gum…
...and a Freon lip buzz and cold bubble symphony from the plant. Topside beggars roost like unfinished nails. A crow sits on the spar overhead. Sodium vapor wash on the paper, brighter than these scribblings for a girl I cannot waltz. How did you do it, men? The last place for poems here, it is the last place of poems. You.
A school of minnows jumps through a platinum hole. Fleeing death is a disturbing requirement here.
I cannot light a cigarette.
I am fucked if we go.
Conserve…
There is a dealer who owes me money. How’s that? It all goes around and this time it came to him. Interest nauseates me and he’s sure to oblige.
A raindrop!
Here…
Over there…
Salvation!
Delivered by a raven!
If I sit here long enough they’ll drag me into the lobster plant to measure my antennae. Black and white and red and red apron gluttons waiting with white feathers and glowing orange Marlboros on the loading dock. Crows on the deck of the Jerry And Jimmy, trying spider crab, passing.
Crows are goofy walkers.
A flock of pigeons makes a half-assed circle over the pier, seems like they think we don’t know they’re pretending not to know where they’re going. They rest uneasily atop the wiry roof of a bar. Some crows up there too. And a lone crackling starling that the crows will ignore until it is dead.
Purple.
Bright blue.
High, light and white.
A smooth yet complex unraveling. logical, scientific, plotted by the rules of affinity.
Maybe I am in the wrong place.
xxxxxx-sun blue and cloud white ribs show beyond the lower gray clouds, which look like they’ve been drinking charcoal. A good-bye hero sky moving in to spell a day off.
An east-southeast wind dragging rain up from Jersey. A day off means actual sleep. But it is too early to call. These sonsofbitches have gone out in hurricanes and balked at drizzly two-foot whitecaps. My fate is open: a skate back to the showers or a monkey aboard to be yelled at for watching the sun rise on the sea instead of the scum on the lines.
I have three cigs.
A bottle of shoplifted Sprite.
No gum…
...and a Freon lip buzz and cold bubble symphony from the plant. Topside beggars roost like unfinished nails. A crow sits on the spar overhead. Sodium vapor wash on the paper, brighter than these scribblings for a girl I cannot waltz. How did you do it, men? The last place for poems here, it is the last place of poems. You.
A school of minnows jumps through a platinum hole. Fleeing death is a disturbing requirement here.
I cannot light a cigarette.
I am fucked if we go.
Conserve…
There is a dealer who owes me money. How’s that? It all goes around and this time it came to him. Interest nauseates me and he’s sure to oblige.
A raindrop!
Here…
Over there…
Salvation!
Delivered by a raven!
If I sit here long enough they’ll drag me into the lobster plant to measure my antennae. Black and white and red and red apron gluttons waiting with white feathers and glowing orange Marlboros on the loading dock. Crows on the deck of the Jerry And Jimmy, trying spider crab, passing.
Crows are goofy walkers.
A flock of pigeons makes a half-assed circle over the pier, seems like they think we don’t know they’re pretending not to know where they’re going. They rest uneasily atop the wiry roof of a bar. Some crows up there too. And a lone crackling starling that the crows will ignore until it is dead.
Purple.
Bright blue.
High, light and white.
A smooth yet complex unraveling. logical, scientific, plotted by the rules of affinity.
Maybe I am in the wrong place.
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