Crows on a Wire

its clear to me the light pole wire is full
again
squawking crows
littering the ground beneath them
foul droppings
from Satan’s minions
perched atop the wire
which droops from weight of the imps
spawned by commit a blasphemous devilish curse
insolence on parade
communicating to each other
foreign to everyone and everything
other birds cannot understand their gibberish
and steer clear
from the bullies of the backyard
paranoid way of thinking
maybe
maybe not
foul, evil blackbirds
crows
from the sky descended
perched upon that wire
by prearranged petition
oh, a cold wind
blows throughout my soul
their eyes
beady and Satanish
measure me as they were sighting
down a gun barrel
what a dark place id live
with these wretched birds
they’ve been coming
every afternoon
now for three weeks
waiting
watching
what little soul I have left
for them to pick it apart
somewhere in the distance
the lonesome scream of a southbound freight
wish I could catch it
scrunch up in the corner of boxcar
away from the crows
it has been some time in coming
this great fear
fear so immense
I feel like my skull will soon split open
arteries will crack and come apart
blood pour through my nose
the doo-ron-ron background music
filters in my brain
old nineteen-fifties album
colored girls singing
can’t remember their name
the music
only thing that soothes my heartbeat
upsets the crows too
that’s why I put it on
keeps them at bay, or it seems to
but
I don’t know
for how long

©July 28, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton