The Crow Buzz

white fire straining wind strafing reeds puffing sprouting from rot holes of childish needs blowflies buzz fruit in my brain scorching the air with a whining hiss currying blame
in this this the day the train came winding along rails on trails that split the sky i’ve been learning to fly, to get up off my knees, but there are so many gods up there playing in the trees
while trash cans fester with rotting cupids. and when the wind blows i can smell it – all the needs bleached by all the greed. and one last time i offer a favor – that i may grant this place, this waste of life and breath another disease.