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JS Clark May 2017
I’m rollin’ west toward the downtown;
My eye adjusting to a robe of twilight courtesy of a
Sunset fetching.

Having come from the grocery store,
I drive and think of why I like the summertime twilights:
Of the cicadas singing in muggy treelines--
Of screened in porches with single bulbs--
Of newly caught fish being cleaned in said porches--
Of kids deftly riding skateboards on uneven sidewalks--
Of shadetree mechanics cussing at another raked knuckle as their respective hot rods come together.
Of the lightning bugs as they beacon for their mate to be...

There’s the drag racing out at Osborn on Friday nights.
The fishing on the Missouri and random farm ponds any given evening into night.
The mosquitoes,
The chiggers,
The ticks,
And the bullfrogs…

The summer twilights--
The beauty of a season.
JS Clark May 2017
As I was talking with the crow
He smiled at me as sometimes
Crows are wont to do

He said you really are a good
Man you know
As bid me to partake of his freshly
Prepared stew

He looked me up and down with
His keen bird's eye
Gave me a wink and said
Son I surmise
That you are far too quick to criticize
All those that pass your way

I said what do you mean
I just mind my own affairs
This relieves me of many burdens
Pressures
Cares

The crow laughed heartily as he took
A bite of his stew
He stated I'm afraid you miss the point
Of what is being said to you
Your kind does not need reminded of their
Sins and their flaws
All that manages to do is slash soul
With self-righteous claws

Take my advice when next your head
Is filled with fault finding words
**** them right there
Too many times they have already
Been heard

The crow reminded me that I was a good
Man tis true
And that he hoped my digestion would
Kindly oblige to his stew
He hoped it to be nourishment
For my soul to renew

I then asked the great black bird
What was in the concoction
For indeed I had to know
Why my dear boy
The corvid replied
It was me the whole time
It was me
The crow
JS Clark May 2017
Sitting in Cash black,
Pondering Selby concrete--
I sell Brooklyn Bridge.
JS Clark May 2017
Spectres in windows,
Shakespeare tickles a ******--
Venus does not yawn.
JS Clark May 2017
The visceral glides,
High above the whiskey falls--
I'm in the barrel.
JS Clark May 2017
YOUR eyes are the earth!!
YOUR lips are the trees budding--
YOUR hair, my river!!
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