Posted by Atticus on November 30, 2005, at 13:12:22
At dawn I hear
Crow banshees call,
Their wailing cries,
They rise and fall,
Graffiti weeps
On cracked brick walls,
Well-dressed sheep creep
Through subway stalls,
A slaughterhouse
Awaits them all,
Sleek abattoirs
Stand cruel and tall,
Gray cubicles, fluorescent pall,
The doomed just curl
Into a ball,
And the crows know
They feel so small,
A blackbird’s dirge
For souls left mauled.
poster:Atticus
thread:583712
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20051022/msgs/583712.html