A crow lives it's entire life without being important
without the slender, murky beauty it holds
realized
Perched on a fence,
in front of the state office building
it is the right shape, the right size
unburned with shame, naive of doubt
all universal code is in plain sight
At first, my eyes catch the grease soaked bag floating down the street,
my mouth salivates
a tiny puddle in the left side of my mouth,
but no, I want to be like the ebony prince
It wasn't until he shewed the crow
That I even realize the hideously manufactured man
gripping tightly to his luke warm, dollar menu prize
And my eyes began to dance, sweating
Such contrast, such harshness
such gluttonous
interrupting
such intrinsic truths
I'm jealous and unfolding
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