Corrupt or guiltless he will prey for your passing
to clasp on the nucleus of your being.
His eyes see noting but he tastes the intentions
of every thought that passes.

As you transcend from sentience to necrosis
waiting patiently the binary crows linger above
you to  taste upon the vessels of the devouring
locks to the soul, only sockets bleed tears now.

He is the priest of eternal silence he utters no words,
only claps the essence of you and where it may decline.
How have you played in life which corner do you fall.

I planted my garden
In straight spaced rows;
Under the scrutiny
Of  thieving grey squirrels,
But I fooled them, I think,
With my ribbons and bows:
Pink, red, green and yellow,
I hope no one tells 'em,
For I surely won't sell them,
These tatters, tomatos and carrots,
Beets, near lettuce and onions,
And kale, beans and turnip:
All because squirrels
Have been tricked,  
Yet they'll turn up.

Hey crow! Where Venus infers such that glass is TheHollow shell of tortoise blossoms oozing the Nyrous tips of incredulous sorceries, felt from oozing blue tears. The shapes are scented for you, the wands of new beginnings that carry you on. Leopards. Sunrises. Footsteps and madmen. Blitzkrieg harkening the weather's ovivorous lightning bursts to shake one's ears. White-colored hermine heroines throttled and wet with shades of gear. Small ranchito shrubs goose-pimple my skin, my hide; and shake this moon. Sway, into the early sun. Burning close to me.

Crows are filling up my journal
spilling over written words
all the angry needy secrets
knocking on my closed doors

I woke up
In a dark place
With four goats around me
Dancing.

The dance was demonic
Satanic
Hallucinogenic
Static.

They moved
Yet stayed in place
They sang demonic tunes
Yet did not open their mouth.

I paniced
Screamed
Shivered
and finally ran.

I kicked one
and it Unfolded
Exploded
Into butterflies.

The other goats burst and shaped
Defaced
Recombobulated
A man.

The man had a mask
of Clay
My fist felt the clay
The clay felt my fist.

The mask
Shattered
Corroded
Disintegrated.

I saw fear
I saw dismay
I saw dread
I saw me.

He spoke
"Pathetic"
"Disgusting"
"I'm you? How cliche?".

I shook
I saw crows
I burst to butterflies
The crows ate me.

I was on the floor
I overdosed
I ****** up
I should do this again.

I wear my cloak of crows
With a sly eye to the door
Hanging on the thought
Of leaving because
I've never really stayed

The black feathers flock to the window
Beady eyes survey my inaction
As the pitter patter of raindrops
Hum along the glass

I'm comforted for a moment
By my new ****** of friends
Gazing into my past
And the uncertain future

The rapid beat of my heart
Regains my attention
To the clutch on the armrest
My eyes have since shifted
Back to the door...

Like I'm there once again
Such a persistent memory
The one where it is too late
When regrets manifest
Into demons we carry
Through the mud, these burdens
Never letting you forget that instant

So I sit in this chair
In this room focused
On the door ready to run

At the end of the day
All the convincing in the world
Cannot change true nature
Not when it counts
Not when it matters

Ten black crows
in a red-budded
cottonwood tree
basking in the eerie
glow of the waning sun
bruised, livid sky
weighted air
waves shush, shush
on the receding tide
serenity reigns
but I can feel it
hovering offshore
a curled fist
wound tight
ready to strike

Renegade crows
swagger ashore
lifting unlucky tritons
high into the whirling
wind, dropping them
to the rocks below

shell is rendered
to fine dust
revealing the mollusk
vainly hiding
in the fissured whorl
of what was once

Home

now a splintered chamber
with no exit  
from which to squeeze
into the minute space
between falling
and breaking clean open.

and when everything's stripped back
And all self imposing things are gone
What's left?

A fury of wings folded
A silence suddenly fell

And in the bright dark
A crown of crows