Despising Crows
Curse them out early,
Moments before dawn,
When they sing their songs,
After you’ve wrestled
The recurring dream of night.
Stare them up and down.
Let them know, again,
You’re on to the games
They and their horde play,
Purely at your expense.
Convince them you need
An hour or two of silence.
Then chop down the tree
Where they’ve chosen to live
—
Limb by limb by limb.
If they should survive, sadly,
Tell them just how kind
They’ve become this season;
That you worship their wisdom.
Invite them over for
a crumpet.
Finally, open the little heart
You call
a ticker.
Prepare your obituary,
During the time it takes
To spit in their eyes.
It’s Only Sex
Little more than that.
Get hot and bothered,
But it won’t change
The trajectory of your life
—
No matter who says so.
Try it if you like;
Even more than once.
Commit to an orgy or two.
Let it work through the system.
Call
a cab when you’re spent.
In some unreliable quarters,
Folks claim it’s
a big deal.
Body parts offered,
As though it’s an auction.
Buy low, sell high…
Sure, spin the wheel,
Should you deem it necessary.
Shack up and then some.
Just don’t expect
a miracle.
After all, it’s only sex.
